W.S.  MAUGHAM 


THE  EXPLORER 


THE  EXTLORETl 


The   Extloreix' 


V 


A  (MELODRAMA 

In   Four   iActs 


'Br  IV.  S,  (MAUGHAM 


CHICAGO  : 

THE  DRAMATIC  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


Printed  in  EtigUind 


This  play  was  first  produced  at  tlie  Lyric  Theatre  on 
Saturday,  June  13,  1908,  with  the  following  cast  : 

ALEXANDER   MACKENZIE  LEWIS  WALLEli 

RICIIAED   LOMAS  A.   E     GEORGE 

DR.   ADAMSON  CHARLES  ROCK 

Sir  ROBERT   BOULGER,    BX.  OWEN  ROUGHWOOD 

George  Allerton  Shiel  Barry 

Rev.  James  Carbery  S.  J.  Warmington 

captain  Mallins  a.  Caton  Woodville 

miller  ^"^^"fDiaAN 

SfRfcROWLEY  m^^M?oTe 

LADyKeLSEY  ^        ^^^''M;?!^'n 

LUCY   ALLERTON  EVELYN   MlLLARD 


396931J 


rHE  EXPLORETl 


CHARACTERS 


Alexander  Mackenzie 

Richard  Lomas 

Dr.  Adamson 

Sir  Robert  Boulger,  13t. 

George  Allerton 

The  Rev.  James  Carbery 

Captain  Mallins 

Miller 

Charles 

Lady  Kelsey 

Mrs.  Crowley 

Lucy  Allerton 


ToiE  :  The  Present  Deiy. 

Scene:  The  First  and  Thira  Acts  tale  x>^acc  at  Lady  Kdscy's 
house ;  the  Second  at  Maclenne's  camp  in  Central  Africa  ; 
and  the  Fourth  at  the  house  of  Richard  Lomas. 


vii 


Tlif  Pa'formiiKj  Jiirjhtfi  of  thi-'^  p/^^ry  arc 
fiilhj  protected,  and  permission  to  jxrform  it, 
vhether  by  Ameitevrs  or  Profcssionuh,  riuixt 
he  obtained  in  advance  from  the  author^ s  Sole 
Af/ent,  R.  Goldiuf/  Brit/ht,  20  Green  Street, 
Leicester  Square,  London,  TF.C'.,  from  n-hnn 
all  ixtrticuJars  can  be  obtained. 


THE  EXPLORER 


THE    FIRST  ACT 

Scene  :  Lady  Kelsey's  draiiinrj-room  in  May  fair. 
At  the  hack  is  a  vnndoio  leadiinj  on  to  a  balcony. 
On  the  right  a  door  leads  to  the  Uuircase,  and  on 
the  left  is  another  door.  It  is  the  sumptuous  room 
of  a  rich  luoman. 

[Lady  Kelsey  is  seated.,  dressed  in  black;  she  is  a 
vjoman  of  fifty,  kind,  emotional,  and  agitated. 
She  is  drying  her  eyes.  Mrs.  Crowley,  a  pretty 
little  icoman  of  twenty-eighty  very  leautifidly 
dressed,  vivacious  and  gesticulative,  is  ivatclting 
her  quietly.  The  Rev.  James  Carbery,  a  young 
curate,  tall  and  impressive  in  appearance, 2)07iderou.^ 
ami  self-important,  is  very  immacidate  in  a  silk 
uxiistcoat  and  a  large  gold  cross, 

Carbery. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  sincerely  I  feel  for  you  in  this 
aflliction,  Lady  Kelsey. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
You're  very  kind.     Every  one  has  been  very  kind. 


3  THE  EXPLORER 

liiit  I  shall  never  get  over  it.     i  shall  never  hold  up 
my  head  again. 

Mk8.  C'uowi-ey. 

Nonsense  !  You  talk  as  if  the  whole  thing  weren't 
perfectly  monstrous.  Surely  you  don't  for  a  moment 
suppose  that  your  brother-in-law  wont  be  able  to 
explain  everything  away  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 

God  forbid  !  Hut  still,  it's  dreadful  to  think  that 
at  this  very  moment  my  poor  sister's  hu.sband  is 
standing  in  the  felon's  dock. 

C'arbeuy. 
Dreadful,  dreadful ! 

Lady  Kelsey. 

If  you  only  knew  the  ngonies  I've  suflered  since 
Fred  was  arrested  !  At  first  I  couldn't  believe  it,  I 
wouldn't  believe  it.  If  I'd  only  known  such  a  thing 
was  possible,  I'd  have  done  anything  to  help  him. 

Carbery. 
But  had  you  any  idea  he  was  in  dilliculties? 

Lady  Kelsey. 

lie  came  to  me  and  .^aid  he  mu>t  have  three 
tliousnnd  pounds  at  once.  But  I'd  given  him  money 
so  often  since  my  poor  sister  died,  and  every  one  said 
I  oughtn't  to  give  him  any  more.  After  .m11,  .someone 
must  look  after  his  children,  and  if  I  don't  ho.iid  my 
money  a  little,  (Jeorge  and  Lucy  will  be  penniless. 


THE  EXPLORER  3 

Mhs.  CuowrjilY. 
Oh,  you  were  (juite  right  to  refuse. 

Lady  Kklsey. 

I  thought  it  would  only  go  in  senseless  extravagances 
as  all  the  rest  has  gone,  and  when  he  said  it  was  a  matter 
of  life  and  death,  J.  couldn't  believe  it.  He'd  said  that 
so  often. 

Caubery. 

It's  shocking  to  think  a  man  of  his  position  and 
abilities  should  have  come  to  such  a  pass. 

Mrs.  Crowley, 

Dear  Mr.  Carbery,  don't  draw  the  very  obvious 
moral.     We're  all  quite  wretched  enough  as  it  is. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

And  two  days  later  Lucy  came  to  me  with  a  white 
face  to  sny  that  he  had  been  arrested  for  forging  a 
cheque. 

Carbery. 

I  only  met  him  once,  and  I'm  bound  to  say  I 
thought  him  a  most  charming  man. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Ah,  that's  what  ruined  him.  He  was  always  so 
entirely  delightful.  He  could  never  say  no  to  any  one. 
But  there's  not  an  atom  of  harm  in  him.  I'm  (juito 
certain  he's  never  done  anything  criminal ;  he  may 
have  been  foolish,  but  wicked  never. 


4  THE  FXPLORF.R 

j\Ihs.  CirowLKV. 
Of  couisc  lif'll   be  able  to  clear   liinisclf.     There's 
not  i\\v  least  doubt  about  that. 


T.ADV  Ki:i-si:y. 
15ut  tliiiik   of    the   disgrace  of  it.     A  publie  trial. 
And  Fred  AUeiton  of  all  people !    Tlie  AUertons  were 
always  so  proud  of  their  family.      It  was  almost  a 
mauia  with  them. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
For  ceuturies  they've  cherished  the  fiim  b(  lief  that 
there  was  uo  one  in  the  county   fit  to  Ithuk   their 
boots. 

Carbeky. 
Pride  goeth  before  a  fall. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[Smlli)i(j.]  And  proverbs  before  a  clergyman. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

They  wouldn't  give  him  bail,  so  he's  remained  in 
prison  till  now.  Of  couise,  I  made  Lucy  and  (leorge 
come  here. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

You've  Ijeen  <|uite  charming,  Lady  Kelsey,  as  every 
one  knew  you'd  be.     Ibit  don't  think  of  tlu  se  wi ctehed 


THE  EXPLORER  5 

weeks  of  suspense.  Think  only  that  IsYw  AUcrton 
has  got  his  chance  at  last.  Why,  the  trial  may  be 
over  now,  and  he  may  this  very  minute  be  on  his  way 
to  this  house. 

Carbkuy. 
AVhat  will  he  do  when  it's  over  (     The  position  will 
be  surely  a  little  unpleasant. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
I've   talked  it  over  with  Lucy,  and — I've  made  it 
possible  for  them  all  to  go  abroad.     They'll  need  rest 
and  quiet.     Poor  things,  poor  things  ! 

Oarbery. 
I  suppose  Miss  Allerton  and  George  are  at  the  Old 
Bailey. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
No,  their  father  begged  them  to  stay  away.    They've 
been  in  all  day,  waiting  for  the  papers. 

MrSm  Crowley. 

But  who  is  going  to  bring  you  the  news  ?     Surely 
you're  not  going  to  wait  for  the  papers  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Oh,  no,  Dick  Lomas  is  coming.     He's  one  of  the 
witnesses  for  Fred,  and  my  nephew  Bobby  Boulger. 

^[rs.  Crowley. 
And  what  about  Mr.  Mackenzie  <     He  told  me  he 
would  be  there. 


6  TUli  EXVLUUER 

CAIlIiKIlV. 

Is  that  the  great  traveller  i  I  thought  I  niw  in 
the  [)iper  that  he'd  already  started  for  Africa. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Not  yet.  He's  going  at  the  beginning  of  the  month. 
Oh,  he's  been  so  good  to  us  during  this  time.  All 
our  friends  have  been  good  to  n?;. 

Carbery, 

I  shouldn't  have  thought  there  was  much  of  the 
milk  of  human  kindness  to  overflow  in  Alexander 
Ma(;kenzie.  ]5y  all  accounts  he  dealt  with  the  slave- 
traders  in  Africa  w^ith  a  good  deal  of  vigour. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

The  slave-traders  must  be  quaking  in  their  shoes 
if  they  know  he's  starting  out  again,  for  he's  made 
up  his  mind  to  exterminate  them,  and  when  Alec 
Mackenzie  makes  up  his  mind  to  do  a  thing,  he 
appears  to  do  it. 

Lady  Kelsey . 

He  has  the  reputation  of  a  hard  man,  but  no  one 
could  be  more  delightful  than  he  has  been  to  me. 

]\1ks.  Crowley. 
I  donL  think  I  like  him,  but  he's  certainly  a  strong 
man,  and  in  Kngland  just  now  every  one's  so  weak 
and  floppy,  it's  rather  a  relief  to  come  across  somebody 
who's  goL  a  will  of  iron  and  nerves  of  steel. 


THE  liXVLORER  7 

[Geouge  Allertox  comes  in.  llo,  is  a  very 
yoiDVj  man,  good-look inrj,  thoiujlt  at  the 
moment  j)ale  and  haggard ,  with  a  rather 
v^eak  face. 

George. 

I  thought  Lucy  was  here.  [To  Carbery  and  Mrs. 
CiiowLEY.]  How  d'you  do  ?     Have  you  seen  Lucy  ^ 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I  went  to  her  room  for  a  moment. 

George. 
What  is  she  doing  ? 

Mrs.  Crowley, 
Reading. 

George. 

I  wish  I  could  take  it  as  calmly  as  she  does.  An 
outsider  would  think  there  was  nothing  the  matter 
at  all.     Oh,  it's  too  awful ! 

Lauy  Kelsev. 

ISIy  dear,  you  must  bear  up.  We  must  all  hope 
for  the  best. 

George. 

But  there  is  no  best.  Whatever  happen-,  it  means 
disgrace  and  dishonour.  How  could  he  ^  How  could 
he? 

Lady  Kelsey. 

No  one  knows  your  father  as  1  do,  George.     I'm 


8  THE  EXPLORER 

smc  lie's  never  been  ;uiy thing  hut  thuiightless  luiil 
foolish. 

(iEORGE. 

Of  course  he's  not  been  actually  criminal.  That's 
absurd.     Jiut  it's  bad  enough  as  it  is. 

Mus.  Ciio\vLi:v. 

You  nuist'.i't  take  it  too  much  to  heart.  In  another 
half-hour  at  the  utmost  your  father  will  be  here  with 
everything  cleared  up,  and  you'll  be  able  to  go  back 
to  Oxford  with  a  clear  conscience. 

George. 
D  you  think  I   can  go  to  Oxford  again  when  my 
father  has  been  tried  for  forgery  ?    No,  no !    Ko,  no  ! 
I'd  rather  shoot  myself. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
My  poor  boy  .  .  .  Where  have  you  been  all  day  ? 

(iEORGE. 

Heaven  knows  !  I've  walked  through  the  streets 
till  I'm  dog-tired.  Oh,  the  suspense  is  too  awful. 
My  feet  carried  me  to  the  Old  Bailey,  and  I  would 
h  ive  given  anything  to  go  in  and  see  how  things 
were  going,  but  I'd  promised  the  Pater  I  wouldn't. 

Lady  K  else  v. 
How  did  he  look  this  morning  ? 

George. 
He  w.is  most  awfullv  worn  and  ill.      I  don't  believe 


THE  EXPLORER  9 

]\v'\\  ever  got  over  it.  I  siw  his  cuuust'l  hcl'oro  tin- 
c.-ise  begun.  They  told  luc  it  was  bound  to  come  nil 
light. 

Mrs.  Ckowi/ev. 
Is  there  anything  in  the  evening  papers  ? 

George. 
1  haven't  dared  to  look.     The  placards  are  awful. 

Carbery. 
Wijy,  what  do  they  say  ? 

George. 
Can't  you  imagine?      '^'Gentleman   charged  with 
forgery."'      ••  County  gentleman  at  the  Old    J3ailey." 
And  all  the  rest  of  it.     Damn  them  !  Damn  them  ! 

Lady  Kelsey. 
It  may  be  all  over  by  now. 

George. 
I   feel  that  I  shall  never  sleep  again.     1  couldn't 
close  my  eyes  last  night.     To  think  that  one's  own 
father  .  .   . 

Lady  Kelsey. 
For  goodness'  sake  be  quiet. 

George. 
[Startmg.]  There's  a  ling  at  the  bell. 


lo  Tnii  EXl'LURER 

Lady   Ki:i.si:v. 
I've  "iven  orders  that  no  one  is  to  be  adniitttcl  but 
Dick  Lomasund  Bobbie. 

]\rKS.   CUOWLEY. 
It  must  be  finished  by  now.      It's  one  or  the  other 
of  them  come  to  tell  you  the  result. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Oh,  I'm  so  frightfully  anxious. 

G  EORGE. 

Aunt,  you  don't  think  .   .   . 

Lady  Kelsey. 

No,  no,  of  course  not.     They  must  find  him  not 
guilty. 

[TJie  Butler  enters  folloiced  hy  Dick  Lomas, 
a  clean-shaven  dapper  man^  with  a  sharp 
face  and  good-natured  smile.  He  is  between 
thivty-fice  and  forty,  bat  slim  and yontJifid. 
With  him  comes  Sir  Robert  Boulcjek, 
Lady  Kelsey's  nephew,  a  youd-lookiny, 
sjyruce  yoatJi  of  twenty -tic  o. 

BUTLEK. 

Mr.  Lomas,  Sir  Robert  Boulger. 

(li:ORGE. 

\/':.rcitedly.\   Well,  well?     For  Clod's   sak'^    tell  us 
(juickly. 


THE  llXl'LORLiR  n 

])1CK. 

My  dear  people,  I  have  nothing  to  tell. 

George. 

Oh! 

[//e  star/gers  wUh  sudden  faintneas  and  Jails 
to  tJteJloor. 

Dick. 
Ilulloa !     What's  this  ? 

Mrs.  CiioAVLEY. 
Poor  boy  !  [^'^<^Z/  croicd  round  him. 

George. 
It's  all  right.      What    a   fool    I    am!      I  was   so 
strung  up. 

])ICK. 

You'd  better  come  to  the  window. 

[He  and  BouLCiEii  take  the  hoys  arms  and  lead 
him  to  the  loindow.  George  leans  ajainst 
the  balcony. 

Carbery. 
I'm  afraid  I  must  go  away.     Every  Wednesday  at 
four    I   read  Little  Lord  Fauntleroy   to    forty  char- 
women. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Good-bye.     And  thanks  so  much  for  coming. 


THE  EXrLOkER 


Mrs.  ('iu)\vli:v. 


[S/udhif/ hands  wif/i  /> iin .  |  (Jood-bye.  A  cler^iyiiiMn 
always  helps  one  so  inucli  to  boar  other  iicoplo's 
misfortunes. 

[Caiihkuy  goci-j  oat,  and  in  a  inonient  Koiilut 
l^oULGEii  coities  hack  Into  the  room. 

Lady   Kklsky. 
Is  he  better  ? 

IjOULGEU. 

Oh.  much.  He'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute.  [Lady 
Kklsey  (foes  to  the  windoir,  and  he  turns  to  ^lus. 
Crowley.]  You  are  a  brick  to  come  here  to-day,  when 
they're  all  in  such  awful  trouble. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

\]V'dha  little  hesitatioii.]  Did  you  really  come  away 
before  the  trial  was  ended  ? 

HOULGER. 

Why,  of  course.  What  did  you  think  ?  You  don't 
imagine  they'll  convict  him  ^ 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
It's  too  dreadful. 

Houlger. 

Where  is  Lucy  ('  \  was  hoping  to  get  a  glimpbo 
of  her. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I  wouldn't  trouble  her  to-day  if  I  were  you.  1 
think  slie  mo.st  wants  to  be  left  alone. 


THE  EXPLORER  13 

l)OUl-(iER. 

I  wanted  to  tell  her  that  if  J  couhl  ilo  anything  at 
all,  she  had  only  to  command. 

j\ruS.    CUOWLEY. 

I   think    she  knows   that.     But  I'll  give  her  the 
ines.<^age  if  you  like.   .  .  .  You're  very  devoted. 

BOULGER. 

I've   been    madly    in    love    with   her  ever  since  I 
was  ten. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Take  care  then.     There's  nothing  so  tedious  as  the 
constant  lover. 

[Dick  comes   into   the   room   and   speaJcs    to 
Robert  Boulger. 

Dick. 

George  is  quite  well  now.     lie  wants  you  to  smoke 
a  cigarette  with  him. 

Boulger. 

Certainly.  [Ife  goes  on  to  the  balcony. 

Dick. 

\]VJLen  Boulger  is  gone.]    At   least,    he   will   the 
moment  he  sees  you. 

Mrs.  Crowley'. 
^^'hat  do  you  moan  by  that  ^ 


14  THE  EXPLORER 

Dick. 

Merely  that  I  wanted  to  talk  to  yon.  And  Holjerb 
Houlger,  bein<,'  a  youth  of  somcwliat  limited  intolli- 
gonce,  seemeil  in  the  way. 

]\1  Its.  Ckow  hi:v. 
Why  <li.l  you  leave  the  Old  l^ailoy? 

Dick. 

My  dear  lady,  I  coaldut  stand  it.  You  don't  know 
what  it  is  to  sit  there  and  watch  a  nia!i  toituied,  a 
man  you've  known  all  your  life,  whom  you've  dined 
with  times  out  of  number,  in  whose  house  you've 
stayed.  He  had  just  the  look  of  a  hunted  beast,  and 
his  face  was  grey  with  terror. 

Mrs.  Crowlky. 
How  was  the  case  going? 

Dick. 

T  couldn't  judge.  T  could  only  see  those  haggard, 
despairing  eyes. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

But  you're  a  barrister.  You  must  have  heard  his 
answers.     What  did  he  reply  to  all  the  questions  ? 

Dtck. 

]Ie  .seemed  (juite  dazed.  1  don't  think  ho  took  in 
the  gist  of  liis  cro.^h-examination. 


TIIR  EXPLORER  15 

Mits.  Crowley. 
JJut  tlu;  man's  innocent. 

I)1(!K. 

Yes,  we  all  hope  that. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

AVhat  d'you  mean  ?  There  can  be  no  doubt  about 
that.  When  he  was  arrested  Lucy  went  to  him  and 
be<?£:ed  him  to  tell  her  tiie  exact  truth.  lie  swore 
that  he  wasn't  guilty. 

Dick. 

Poor  Lucy  !  She's  borne  up  wonderfully.  She'll 
stick  to  her  father  through  thick  and  thin. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

\_Ahru2'>tlij.^  Mr.  Lomas,  you're  trying  to  put  me  off. 
It's  not  fair  to  let  Lucy  buoy  herself  up  with  false 
hopes.  She's  absolutely  convinced  that  her  father 
will  be  acquitted. 

Dick. 

Well,  in  another  half-hour  we  shall  all  kno^v, 
When  I  left,  the  judge  was  just  going  to  sum  up. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Mr.  Lomas,  what  is  your  opinion  ? 

[ZTe  looks  at  her  steadily  for  a  moment. 

Dick. 

AVere  you  very  much  surprised  when  you  heard 
Fred  Allerton  was  arrested  ? 


I6  THE  EXPLORER 

Mks.  ( 'HOW  i,i:v. 
(!()()(!  lio;ivcM>,  I  was  overwlielmed  ! 


Dick. 


Dri/hi.\  Ah 


MlJS.  CllOWLKV. 

If  you  ngiriavate  mo  I  sliall  box  your  ears. 

Dick. 

When  first  I  knew  Fred  he  wns  a  very  ricli  mnn. 
You  know  that  the  Allertons  aie  one  of  the  olde.'-t 
families  in  Cheshire  ? 

Mrs.  C ROWLEY. 

Yes.  I  think  Lucy's  only  failing  is  an  inordinate 
pride  in  her  family.  She  thinks  it  very  snobbii-h  to 
liave  any  particular  respect  for  a  peer  of  the  renlm, 
but  only  natural  to  look  up  to  persons  of  good  family. 

Dick. 

Ah,  you  see,  you  and  I  who  have  a  quite  indecent 
lack  of  ancestors,  can't  realise  what  the  cult  of  family 
may  be.  There  are  families  in  the  remote  parts  of 
England — not  very  rich,  not  very  clever,  and  not  very 
good-looking — who  would  look  askance  at  a  belted 
earl  wlio  came  to  demand  their  daughter's  hand  in 
marriage.  They  have  a  natural  conviction  that  they're 
the  Ealt  of  the  earth,  and  in  their  particular  corner 
they  rule  more  absolutely  than  half  the  monarchs 
in  Europe.  The  Allertons  were  like  that.  Hut 
Fred  somehow  seemed  to  belong  to  a  dillerent  stock. 
The  lirst  thing  he  did  was  to  play  ducks  and  drakes 
witl)  his  fortune. 


THE  EXPLORER  17 

Mrs.  0  row  ley. 

Rut  men  ought  to  he  extravagant.  That's  what 
they're  there  for. 

Dick. 

Women  always  took  his  side  because  he  had  an 
irresistible  charm  of  manner. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I  think  George  has,  too,  a  little. 

Dick. 

I  hope  for  Lucy's  sake  he  will  turn  out  a  diti'ereut 
man  from  his  father.  I  wish  he  weren't  so  like  liim 
in  appearance.  At  last  Fred  Allerton  had  squandered 
every  penny,  and  he  married  Lady  Kelsey's  sister, 
one  of  the  three  rich  daughters  of  a  Liverpool 
merchant.  But  he  ran  through  her  money,  too, 
gambling,  racing,  and  so  forth,  and  she  died  of  a 
broken  heart — adorinii'  him  still. 


Mrs.  Crowley. 

Vou're  as  well  informed  as  an  encyclopiedia,  Mv. 
Lomas. 

Dick. 

You  see,  I  was  made  the  ti-ustee  for  the  poor 
remains  of  Mrs.  AUerton's  fortune,  and  I  know  how 
Lucy  has  managed  to  keep  all  their  heads  above 
water.  She's  wonderful.  Ever  since  she  was  a  chihl 
she's  held  tlie  reins  in  her  own  hands.  She's  stuck 
to  her  father,  though  Lady  Kelsey  implored   lier  to 

B 


l8  THE  EXPLORER 

leave  liiiii  to  his  own  foolish  ways.  She  saw  that 
George  was  decently  educated.  She  hid  from  the 
world  all  the  little  shifts  and  devices  to  which  she 
had  to  resort  in  order  to  keep  up  an  appearance  of 
decency. 

Mrs.  (JiiowLEv. 
I    suppose    you,    too,    think    Fred    AUerton    little 
better  than  a  scamp  ? 

Dick. 

]\ry  dear  lady,  when  a  man  has  had  to  leave  his 
club  because  he  plays  cards  too  well,  it's  at  least 
permissible  to  suppose  that  there's  something  odd 
about  him. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Here's  Lady  Kelsey.     For  heaven's  sake  try  and 
amuse  her  a  little. 

[Lady  Kelsey  coines  hack  into  the  room. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Oh,  Dick,  I'm  so  full  of  my  own  troubles,  I  forgot 
to  ask  about  yours.  I  in  so  sorry  to  hear  that 
you're  ill. 

Dick. 
On  the  contrary,  I'm  in  tlie  very  best  of  health. 

Ladv   KkIjSEV. 

But  1  saw  in  the  papers  that  you  were  going  to 
give  up  your  seat  in  the  House  owing  to  ill-liealth. 


THE  EXPLOREh'  19 

Dick. 

Of  coiuse,  I'd  forgotten.     ^Fy  heart    is   seriously 
deranged. 

^[rs.  Crowley. 

How  dreadful !     What  is  the  matter  with  it  ? 

Dick. 
Can  you  ask  ?     I've  banged  it  about  at  your  feet 
so  long  that  its  functions  are  excessively  impaired. 
And  it's  beaten  all  my  waistcoats  out  of  shape. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Don't  be  so  foolish.     I  was  quite  alarmed. 

Dick. 
I'm  going  to  retire. 

Lady  Kelsey, 
From  the  bar  as  well  ? 

Dick. 

From  the  bar  as  well.  Henceforth  I  shall  cultivate 
only  such  arts  and  graces  as  are  proper  to  the  man  of 
leisure.  iVIy  fellow  men  are  a  great  deal  too  strenuous, 
and  I  propose  to  offer  them  the  spectacle  of  a  complete 
idler  who  demands  from  the  world  neither  honours 
nor  profit,  but  only  entertainment. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

D'you  mean  to  say  you're  going  to  give  up  a  large 
practice  and  a  position  which  may  be  very  important 
merely  to  gratify  a  foolish  whim  I 


20  THE  EXPLORER 

Dick. 

I  haven't  time  to  woik.  Life  is  so  much  too  short. 
A  little  while  ago  it  occiiiied  to  me  that  1  was  nearly 
forty.    [7o  Mrs.  Ckowley.J   D'you  know  the  feeling^ 

Mrs.  Cuowley. 
No,  of  course  not.     ])on't  be  so  uncivil. 

Dick. 
Hy  the  way,  how  olil  are  you  ? 

I\IUS.    CUOWLEV. 

Twenty-ni!ie ! 

Dick. 
Nonsense  !     There's  no  such  age. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I  beg  your  pardon,  upper  parlourmaids  are  always 
twenty-nine. 

Dick. 

For  years  I've  spent  eight  hours  a  day  meddling 
with  silly  persons'  silly  quarrels,  and  eight  liours 
more  governing  the  nation.  I've  never  been  able 
to  spend  mori^  than  lialf  my  income.  I'm  merely 
working  myself  to  death  in  order  to  leave  a  fortune 
to  my  nieces,  two  desperately  plain  girls  with  red 
ncses. 

JiAov    Ki:lsi;\. 

Ihit  what  are  \  ou  going  to  do  i 


THE  EXPLORER  21 

Dick. 

Ob,  I  don't  know.  Perliaps  111  tiy  my  hand  at 
big  game  .shootitig,  if  Wac  will  lake  me  on  this 
expedition  of  his.  I've  always  thought  shooting 
would  be  an  agreeable  pastime  if  partridges  were  the 
size  of  well-grown  sheep  and  pheasants  a  little  larger 
than  a  cow. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Then  the  breakdown  in  your  health  is  all  humbug? 

Dick. 

Absolute  humbug.  Jf  I  were  to  tell  the  truth 
people  would  shut  me  up  in  a  lunatic  asylum.  I've 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  there's  only  one  game  in 
the  world  worth  playing,  and  that's  the  game  of  life. 
I'm  rich  enough  to  devote  myself  to  it  entirely. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
But  you'll  get  bored  to  death. 

Dick. 

Not  I !  Why,  I'm  growing  younger  every  day. 
My  dear  Mrs.  Crowdey,  I  don't  feel  a  day  more  than 
eighteen. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
You  certainly  look  quite  twenty-five. 

Dick. 
I  haven't  a  white  hair  in  niv  head. 


22  THE  EXPLORER 

Mrs.  CiiowLKY. 

I  suppose   your   servant    plucks   them    out   every 
morning. 

Dick. 

Oil,  very  rarely.     One  a  month  at  the-  outside. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I  think  I  see  one  on  the  left  temple. 

Dick. 

Ileally  !     How  careless  of  Charles  !     I  must  speak 
to  him, 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Let  me  pluck  it  out. 

Dick. 
1  shall  allow  you  to  do  nothing  so  familiar. 

[George  comes  hnrr'mUy  into  the  room. 

(lEORGE. 

There's  Alec  Mackenzie.     He's  just  driven  up  in 
a  cab. 

Dick. 

He    must  have    come   from   the  trial.     Then   its 
all  over. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Quick  !    do  to  the  stairs,  or  Miller  won't  K't  him  \\\\ 

|(  iKoucr:  runs  (irmss;  iJiP  rocnn  and  oppns  the  ihtor. 


THE  EXPLORER  23 

Geoikje. 
[Calling.]     Miller,     Miller,     Mr.     Maekon/ie's     to 
come  up. 

[Lucy  Allerton,  hearing  a  commotion,  comes 
in.  She  is  older  than  George,  a  tall  girl, 
white  now,  mith  eyes  heavy  from  want  oj 
sleej).  She  has  lived  in  the  country  all  her 
life,  and  has  brought  tip  to  London  a  sort  of 
remoteness  from  the  world.  She  is  heauti- 
fod  in  a  very  English  7nanner,  and  her 
clear-cut  features  are  an  index  to  a  character 
in  which  the  moral  notions  are  peculiarly 
rigid.  Self-control  is  a  quality  which  she 
possesses  in  a  marked  degree,  and  one  which 
she  enormously  admires  in  others. 

Lucy. 
Who  is  it  ? 

George. 
It's  Alec  Mackenzie.     He's  come  from  the  trial ! 

Lucy. 
Then  it's  finished  at  last.   [She  shakes  hands  with 
Dick.]  It's  so  good  of  you  to  come. 

BOULGER. 

You're  perfectly  wonderful,  Lucy.     How  can  you 
be  so  calm  ? 

Lucy. 

Because    I'm   quite   sure    of    the    result.       D'you 
imagine  I'd  doubt  my  father  for  a  moment '( 


?4  THE  EXPLORER 

Dick, 

Oil,  Lucy,  for  heaven's  sake  don't  1)0  so  sure.  You 
must  be  prepared  for  everything. 

Lucy. 

01),  no,  ^  know  my  father.  D'you  tliink  I've  not 
studied  him  during  these  years  that  J've  looked  after 
him  ?  He's  a  child,  with  all  a  child's  thoughtlessness 
and  simplicity.  And  God  knows,  he's  weak.  I  know 
his  faults  better  than  any  one,  but  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  him  to  do  anything  criminal. 

[The  Butler  enters,  folloived  hy  Alkc  Mac- 
kenzie. Alec  is  a  tally  loiry  man,  well- 
hiit,  vnth  dark  hair  and  a  small  red 
monstacJte  and  heard,  cut  close  to  the  face, 
lie  is  ahont  fire-and-thirty.  He  has  great 
ease  of  manner^  and  there  is  about  him  an 
air  as  thomfh  he  vere  accustomed  tJtat 
peo2yle  shoidd  do  as  he  told  them. 

Butler. 
Mr.  Mackenzie ! 

George. 

Is  it  finished  ?  For  God's  sake  tell  us  quickly, 
old  man, 

Lucy. 

Why  didn't  father  come  with  you  <    [>i  ho  following  ? 

Alec. 
Yes,  it's  all  over. 


THE  EXPLORER 


Lady  Kelsey. 


25 


Tliank    goodnesF:,       The   suspense    was    really    too 
dreadful. 

Geoucje. 

I  knew  they'd  acquit  him.     Thank  Ood  ! 

Dtck. 

[Lookijig  at  Alec's /«ce.]  Take  care,  George. 

[Suddenly  Lucy  goes  up  to  Alec  and  looks  at 
him.  An  exjjression  of  horror  distorts  her 
features* 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Lucy,  what  is  it  ? 

Alec. 
I  don't  know  how  I  am  going  to  tell  you. 

Lucy. 
You  say  the  trial  was  over  when  you  came  away  ? 

Alec. 
Yes. 

Lucy. 

The  jury  had  given  their  verdict  ? 

George. 

Lucy,    what    are   you    driving    at  ^       You     don't 
think  .  .  .? 

Alec. 
Your  father  asked  me  to  come  and  bi-eak  it  to  you. 


26  THE  EXPLORER 

George. 
He's  not  dead  ? 

Alec. 

Perhaps  it  would  I)e  l)etter  if  lie  were. 

Lucy. 
They  found  him  guilty  ? 

Alec, 
Yes. 

George. 

[With  a  groan  of  despair.']  Oh  !     But  it's  impossible. 

LrcY. 

[Putting  her  hand  on  his  arm.]  Ssh  ! 

Lady  Kelsey. 
My  God,  my  God !     I'm  thankful  that  his  wife  is 
dead. 

Lucy. 

I'm  aw!'ully  stupid,  but  if  he  was  innocent,  how 
could  they  find  liim  guilty  ^  I  don't  know  what 
you  mean. 

Alec. 

I  am  afraid  it's  very  clear, 

Lucy. 
There  must  be  some  horrible  mistake. 

A  EEC. 

i  wish  tliere  were. 


THE  EXPLORER  27 

(j!eoiige. 

[I3reakhi(/  down  into  tears  and  sinkinc/  into  a  c/iair.] 
Oh,  God!    What  shall  I  do  ? 

Lucy. 

Don't  do  that,  George,     We  want  all  our  calmness 
now. 

George. 

Don't  you  see  they  all  expected  it  ^     It  was  only 
you  and  I  who  believed  in  his  innocence. 

Lucy. 

[To  Alec]  Did  you  hear  the  evidence'^ 

Alec. 
Yes. 

Lucy. 

And  you  followed  it  carefully  ? 

Alec. 
Very. 

Lucy. 

What  impression  did  it  leave  on  your  mind  ? 

Alec. 
What  can  it  matter  how  it  affected  me  ? 

Lucy. 
I  want  to  know. 

Dick. 

Lucy,  you're  torturinsf  us  all. 


28  THE  EXPLORER 

Lucy 
If  you  had  been  on  tlie  jury   would    your  verdict 
have  been  the  same  as  tlieiis  ^ 

Alec. 
I  should  liave  been  obli<(ed  to  judge  according  to 
my  conscience. 

Lrcv. 
I  see.     And  you  have  no  doubt  that  ho  was  guilty  ( 

Alec. 
Don't  ask  me  these  horrible  questions. 

Lucy. 
Hut   it's  very  important.     1  know  that  you  arc  a 
perfectly  honest  and  upright  man.     if  you  thiidv  he 
was  ^'uilty,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said. 

Alec. 
The  case  was  so  plain  that  the  jury  were  not  out 
of  the  box  for  more  than  ten  minutes. 

Lrcv. 
Did  the  judge  say  anything  ( 

Alec. 
[Jlefsitatiiti/Ii/.  \  He  said  there  could  1)0  no  doubt  about 
the  justice  of  the  V(r<li(t. 


THE  EXPLORER  29 

Lucy. 

What  else  ?  .  .  .  \lle  looks  at  her  ivithoutanswerinfj.'] 
You  had  better  tell  me  now.  I  shall  see  it  in  the 
papers  to-morrow. 

Alec. 

[.is  though  the  words  ivere  dragged  out  of  him.] 
lie  called  it  a  very  mean  and  shameful  crime, 
worse  than  another  man's  because  your  father  was 
a  gentleman  of  ancient  family  and  bore  a  name  of 
great  honour. 

Dick. 

[To  Mils.  Crowley.]  Tliese  judges  have  a  weakness 
for  pointing  a  moral. 

Lucy. 

And  what  was  the  sentence  ?  [A  jx-case.]  Well  ? 

Alec. 
Seven  years'  penal  servitude. 

George. 
Oh,  God  ! 

Dick. 

My  dear  girl,  I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am. 

Lady  Kelsev. 
Lucy,  what  is  it  'i     You  frighten  me. 

Lucy. 
Try   and    bear    up,    Geoige.      We    want    all    the 
strength  we've  got,  you  and  J. 

[JNliis.  CitowLEY    puts   her   arms  ro^nid  LrcY 
and  kisses  her. 


30  THE  EXPLORER 

MjIS.    CllUWLEY. 

oh;  my  tlcar,  my  dear! 

Lucy. 

[JJisemjcajimj  herself.]  You're  all  very  kind,  and  I 
know  you  sympathise  with  me.    .   .  . 

Mrs.  Cuowi.EY. 

[Interru2ytin(j  Jier.]  You  know  that  we'll  do 
everything  we  can  to  help  you. 

Lucy. 

It's  so  good  of  you.  There's  really  nothing  that 
any  one  c  m  do.  Would  you  all  mind  leaving  me 
alone  with  George  ?  We  must  talk  this  over  by 
ourselves. 

Mrs.  Ck(i\vm:y. 

Very  well.     Mr.  Lomas,  will  you  put  me  into  a  cab  '^ 

Dick. 

Certainly.  [7'o  Lucy.]  Good-bye,  dear,  and  God 
ble.ss  you. 

Lucy. 

[Shdk'uuj  hands  vith  him.]  Don't  worry  too  much 
about  me.  If  there's  anything  i  want,  ill  let  you 
know. 

Dick. 

Thanks.  \lfe  <joes  ovt  ir'dh  M  us.  Cuowlkv. 

Alec. 
.May  1  speak  to  you  for  a  few  minutes  alone  ? 


THE  EXFLORER  31 

Lucy. 
Not  now,  Mr.  Mackenzie.     I   don't  want  to  seem 
rude,  but  .  .  . 

AleCs 
[Interrupting.']  I  know,  and  I  wouldn't  insist  unless 
it  were  a  matter  of  the  most  urgent  importance. 

Lucy. 

Very  well.     George,  will  you  take  Aunt  Alice  to 
her  room  ?     I  shall  want  you  in  a  moment. 

George. 
Yes. 

Lucy. 
[To  Lady  Kelsey.]   Won't  you  lie  down  and  try 
and  sleep  a  little  ?    You  must  be  dreadfully  exhausted. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Ah,  don't  think  of  me  now,  dear.    Think  of  yourself. 

Lucy. 
[Smitimj.]  It's  purely  selfish.     It  eases  me  a  little 
to  fuss  about  you. 

George. 
I'll  wait  in  the  smoking-room,  Lucy. 

Lucy. 
Do! 

[George  and  Lady  Kelsey  yo  out. 


32  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
I   think    your   self-command    is    wonileiful.      I've 
never  admired  you  more  tlian  at  this  moment. 

Lucy. 

You  make  me  feel  such  a  prig.  It's  not  really  very 
strange  if  I  keep  my  head,  because  I've  had  an 
immensely  long  training.  Since  I  was  fifteen  I've 
been  alone  to  care  for  George  and  my  father.  .  .  . 
Won't  you  sit  down  ? 

Alec. 

I  can  say  what  I  want  in  a  very  few  words.  You 
know  that  in  a  week  I  start  for  Mombassa  to  take 
charge  of  the  expedition  in  North-East  Africa.  I 
may  be  away  for  three  or  four  years,  and  I  shall  be 
exposed  to  a  certain  amount  of  danger.  When  I  left 
Africa  last  time  to  gather  supplies,  I  determined  I 
would  crusii  those  wretched  slave-traders,  and  now  I 
think  I  have  the  raeixns  to  do  it. 

Lucy. 
I  think  you  are  engaged  on  a  very  great  work. 

Alec". 

I  don't  know  whether  you  ever  noticed  that — that 
I  cared  more  for  you  than  for  any  one  in  the  world. 
13ut  with  the  long  journey  in  front  of  me  I  didn't 
think  it  was  right  to  say  anything  to  you.  It  wasn't 
fair  to  ask  you  to  bind  yourself  during  my  long 
al)sence.  And  there  was  always  the  risk  tiiat  a 
stray  bullet  might  put  an  end  to  me.  I  made  up 
my    mind    that    I    nuist  wait    till     I     Jiturui'd.       Ihit 


THE  EXPLORER  33 

things  have  changed  now.      Lucy,  J  love  you  witli  ;i1I 
my  heart.      Will  you  niai  ry  me  ])efore  J  go  ^ 

Lucy. 

No,  I  can't  do  that.  It's  very  generous  of  you,  but 
I  couldn't. 

Alec. 

Why. not?  Don't  you  know  that  I  love  you  ?  Tt 
would  help  me  so  much  if  I  knew  that  you  were 
waiting  for  me  at  home. 

Lucy. 

I  must  look  after  my  father.  I  shall  go  and  live 
near  the — prison,  so  that  I  can  see  him  whenever  it's 
possible. 

Alec. 

You  can  do  that  as  'well  if  you're  my  wife.  .  .  . 
You  have  before  you  a  very  difficult  and  trying  time. 
Won't  3'ou  let  me  help  you  ? 

Lucy. 

I  couldn't.  Heaven  knows,  I'm  grateful  to  you  for 
oflering  to  marry  me  on  this  day  of  my  bitter  humilia- 
tion. I  shall  never  forget  your  great  kindness.  But 
I  must  stand  alone.  I  must  devote  myself  to  my 
father.  When  he's  released  I  must  have  a  home  to 
bring  him  to,  and  I  must  tend  him  and  care  for  him. 
Ah,  now  he  wants  me  more  than  ever. 

A  LEC. 

You're  very  proud. 


34  THE  EXPLORER 

Lucy. 

[(firimj  him  her  Jtan(L]  Dear  friend,  don't  think 
hardly  of  me.  .1  tliink  1  love  you  as  much  as  it's 
possible  for  a  woman  to  love  a  man. 

Alec. 
Lucy ! 

Lucy. 

[Wit/i  a  smile.]  Did  you  want  me  to  tell  you  that  in 
so  many  words  ^  I  admire  you,  and  I  trust  you.  I 
should  be  very  happy  if  George  could  grow  into  so 
brave  and  honest  a  man  as  you. 

Alec. 

They're  very  modest  crumbs  with  which  you  want 
me  to  be  satisfied. 

Lucy. 

I  know  in  your  heart  you  think  I'm  right.  You 
would  never  seek  to  dissuade  me  from  what  I'm 
convinced  is  my  duty. 

Alec. 

Can't  I  do  anything  for  you  at  all  ? 

[S'he  lools  at  liim  for  a  moment  intenthj.      She 
rings  the  hell. 

Lucy. 
Yes,  you  can  do  me  the  ^ri'eatest  possible  service. 

A  LEC. 

I'm  so  \i\-m\.     What  is  it  you  moan  ? 


THE  EXPLORER  35 

Lucy. 
AVait,  and  I'll  tell  yoii.  [The  Butleii  enters.]   Ask 
]\[i'.  George  to  come  lieie,  pleii.se. 

I>dti;eu. 
Very  well,  Miss.  [Ue  (joes  out. 

Lucy. 
I  want  you  to  help  me.  [George  comes  in. 

George. 

Yes,  lAicy  ^ 

Lucy. 

I  want  to  give  into  your  charge  what  I  love  most 
in  the  world.".  .  .  George,  have  you  thought  at  all 
what  you're  going  to  do  now  ?  I'm  afraid  you  can't 
go  back  to  Oxford. 

George. 
No,  I  don't  know  what's  to  become  of  me.     I  wish 
I  were  dead. 

Lucy. 

An  idea  has  just  come  to  me.  I'm  going  to  nsk 
Mr.  Mackenzie  to  take  you  with  him  to  Africa.    Will 

you  go  ? 

George. 

Yes,  yes !  I'd  do  anything  to  get  away  from 
England.  I  daren't  face  my  friends — I'm  too 
ashamed. 

Lucy. 

Ah,  but  it's  not  to  hide  yourself  that  I  want  you  to 
go.     Mr.  Mackenzie,  I  daresay  you  know  that  we've 


36  THE  EXPLORER 

always  been  very  proud  of  our  ii:inio.     And  now  it's 
hopolossly  dishonoured. 

(Jkoiici:. 
Lucy,  for  (lod's  sake   .   .   . 

Lucy. 
[Turning  to  him.]  Now  our  only  hope  is  in  you. 
You  have  the  oppoitunity  of  achieving  a  great  thing. 
You  can  bring  back  the  okl  name  to  its  old  honour. 
Oh,  I  wish  I  were  a  man,  I  can  do  nothing  but 
wait  and  watch.  If  I  could  only  fill  you  with  my 
courn<'e  and  with  my  ambition  !  Mr.  Mackenzie, 
you  asked  if  you  could  do  anything  for  me.  You  can 
<'ive  (Jeorge  the  chance  of  wiping  out  the  shame  of 
our  family. 

Alec. 

Do  you  know  that  he  will  have  to  sufter  every  sort 
of  danger  and  privation,  that  often  he  will  be  parched 
by  the  heat,  and  often  soaked  to  the  skin  for  days 
together  (  Sometimes  he'll  not  have  enough  to  eat, 
and  he'll  have  to  work  harder  than  a  navvy. 

Lucy. 
Do  you  hear,  Ceorge  ?     Are  you  willing  to  go  ? 

CIkorck. 
I'll  do  anything  you  want  me  to,  Lucy. 

Alec. 
And  you  know  that  he  may  get  killed.     There  may 
1)0  a  good  deal  of  lighting. 


THE  EXPLORER  37 

Lucy. 
Tf  lie  dies  a  brave   man's  Jealli,   I    have  iiuthing 
more  to  ask. 

Alec. 

[Yo  George.]   Very  well.     Come  with  me,  and  I'll 
do  my  best  for  you. 

Lucy. 

Ah,  thanks.     You  are  really  my  friend. 

Alec. 

And  when  I  come  back  ? 

Lucy. 
Then,  if  you  still  care,  ask  your  question  again. 

Alec. 
And  the  answer  ? 

Lucy. 

\mth  a  Uttle  smile.]  The  answer,  perhaps,  will  be 
different. 


END  OF  TUE  FIRST  xiCT 


THE   SECOND  ACT 

Scene:  Alec  Mackenzie's  teni  In  Xorth- East  Africa. 
It  is  niijld.  The  j^lace  is  dhiih/ lifjlded.  'There  is 
a  little  camp  bed  in  one  corner  icith  a  mosquito  net 
over  it.  There  are  tiro  or  three  foldiwj  cJiairs^  some 
tin  cases,  and  a  table.     On  this  a  gun  is  hjing. 

Dick  is  seated  ivith  his  Jtead  on  his  hands,  leaniny  on 
tJoe  table,  fast  asleep.  J  )R.  Adamson,  the  surgeon 
of  the  expedition,  comes  in.  He  is  a  large-boned 
hr a irny  fellow  with  a  Scotch  accent.  He  holes  at 
Dick  and  smiles. 

DOCTOU. 

Hulloa,  there  !  [Dick  starts  up  and  seizes  the  gun. 
The  DocTOii  laughs.]  All  right.  Don't  shoot.  It'-t; 
only  me. 

Dick. 

[With  a  laugh.]  Why  the  dickens  did  you  wake  nie 
iqt  ^  I  was  dreaming — dreaming  of  a  high-heeled 
l)oot  and  a  neat  ankle,  and  the  swish  of  a  white  lace 
petticoat. 

DoCTOlt. 

1  thought  J'd  just  have  a  look  at  vour  arm. 

3« 


THE  EXPLORER  39 

Dick. 
It's  one  of  the  most  testhetic  sights  I  know. 

Doctor. 
Your  arm  ? 

Dick. 

A  pretty  woman  crossing  Piccadilly  at  Swan  and 
Edgar's.  You  are  a  savage,  my  good  doctor,  and  a 
barbarian.  You  don't  know  the  care  and  forethought, 
the  hours  of  anxious  meditation,  it  has  needed  for  her 
to  hold  up  that  well-made  skirt  with  the  elegant  grace 
which  enchants  yon. 

Doctor. 

I'm  afraid  you're  a  very  immoral  man,  Lomas. 

Dick. 

Ah,  my  dear  fellow,  at  my  time  of  life  I  have  to 
content  myself  with  condemning  the  behaviour  of  the 
younger  generation.  Even  a  camp  bed  in  a  stuffy 
tent  with  mosquitoes  buzzing  all  around  me  has  allure- 
ments greater  than  those  of  youth  and  beauty.  And 
I  declare  for  all  women  to  hear  that  I  am  pioof 
against  their  wiles.  Give  me  a  comfortable  bed  to 
sleep  in,  plenty  to  eat,  tobacco  to  smoke,  and 
Amaryllis  may  go  hang. 

Doctor. 
Well,  let's  look  at  this  wound  of  yours,     lias  it 


been  throbbing  at  all  ? 


Dick. 


Oh,  it's  not   worth   bothering  about.     It'll  be  all 
right  to-morrow. 


40  THE  EXPLORER 

I  )t>tTou. 
I'll  put  a  clean  dressing  on  all  the  same. 

Dick. 

All  iii:lit.  [lie  tahes  off  Ids  coat  and  rolls  up  his 
sleeve.  Jlis  arm  is  handayed^  and  daring  the  ne.>:t 
speeches  the  Ddctuii  ^>?f^s  on  a  dressiufj  and  a  clean 
bandage.']  You  must  be  pretty  well  done  up,  aren't 
you  ? 

Doctor. 

Just  about  dropping.  ]5ut  I've  got  a  deuce  of  a  lot 
more  work  before  I  turn  in. 

Dick. 
The  thing  that  amuses  me  is  to  remember  that  1 
came  to  Africa  thinking  I  was  going  to  have  a  rattling 
good  time. 

Doctor. 

You  couldn't  exactly  describe  it  as  a  picnic,  could 
you  ?  ]5ut  1  don't  suppose  any  of  us  knew  it  would 
be  such  a  tough  job  as  it's  turned  out. 

Dick. 

^ly  friend,  if  ever  I  return  to  my  native  land,  I 
will  never  be  such  a  crass  and  blithering;  idiot  as  to 
give  way  again  to  a  spirit  of  adventure. 


o 


Doctor. 

I  WHJt  a  laiK/h.]  Y'ou're  not  the  sort  of  chap  whom 
one  would  expect  to  take  to  African  work,  ^\'hy  the 
blazes  did  you  come  ? 


THE  EXPLORER  41 


Dick. 
That's  precisely  what  I've  been  asking  myself  evei 
since  we  landed  in  this  God-forsaken  swamp. 


Doctor. 
The  wound  looks  healthy  enough.    It'll  hardly  even 
leave  a  scar. 

Dick. 

I'm  glad  that  my  fatal  beauty  won't  be  injured.  .  .  . 
You  see,  Alec's  about  the  oldest  friend  I  have.  And 
then  there's  3^oung  AUerton,  I've  known  him  ever 
since  he  Wiis  a  kid. 

Doctor. 
That's  an  acquaintance  that  most  of  us  wouldn't 
boast  about. 

Dick. 
I  had  an  idea  I'd  like  Bond  Street  all  the  better 
when  I  got  back.  I  never  knew  that  I  should  be 
eaten  alive  by  every  kind  of  disgusting  animal  by 
night  and  day.  I  say,  Doctor,  do  you  ever  think  of 
a  rump  steak  ? 

Doctor. 
When  ? 

])ICK. 

[]Vi(h  a  loave  of  the  hand.]  Sometimes,  when  we're 
marching  under  a  sun  that  just  about  takes  the  roof 
of  your  head  off,  and  we've  had  the  scantiest  and 


42  HIE  EXPLORER 

most    uncoiiit"oital)lo    Ineakfast     po.sbible,    1    have    a 
vision. 

DoCTOH. 

1  )*you  iiiiiul  only  ge.sticulatiiig  ^vith  one  arm? 

BlOK. 

I  see  the  (Hnin<]j-iooni  of  my  club  and  myself 
sitting  at  a  little  table  by  the  window  looking  out  on 
Piccadilly,  and  there's  a  spotless  tablecloth,  and  all 
the  accessories  are  spick  and  span.  An  obsequious 
servant  brings  me  a  rump  steak,  grilled  to  perfection, 
and  so  tender  that  it  melts  in  the  mouth.  And  he 
puts  by  my  side  a  plate  of  crisp,  fried  potatoes. 
Can't  you  smell  them  ? 

DocTuu. 
\^Lauyhing .^^  hihut  up  ! 

Dick. 

And  then  another  obsequious  servant  brings  me  a 
pewter  tankard,  and  into  it  he  pours  a  bottle,  a  largo 
bottle,  mind  you,  of  foaming  ale. 

DoCTOH. 

You've  certainly  added  considerably  to  our  cheer- 
fulness. 

Dick. 

\]Vith  a  shriuj  of  the  ^Iioidders.]  I've  often  been 
driven  to  appease  the  pangs  of  raging  hunger  with 
a  careless  epigram,  and  by  the  laborious  composition 
of  a  limerick  J  have  sought  to  deceive  a  most  unholy 
thirst. 


THE  EXPLORER  4.3 

1  )0CT0U. 

Well,  last  night  I  thought  you'd  made  your  last 
joke,  old  man,  and  that  1  had  given  my  last  dose  of 
quinine. 

])iCK. 

We  were  in  rather  a  tight  corner,  weren't  we  ? 

Doctor. 
This    is    the    third    expedition    I've    gone    with 
Mackenzie  against  the  slave-raiders,  and  I  piomise 
you    I've   never  been  so  certain  that  all   was   over 
with  us. 

Funny  thing  death  is,  you  know.  When  you 
think  of  it  beforehand,  it  makes  you  squirm  in  your 
shoes,  but  when  you've  just  got  it  face  to  face,  it 
seems  so  obvious  that  you  forget  to  be  afraid.  It's 
one  of  my  principles  never  to  be  impressed  by  a 
platitude. 

Doctor, 

It's  only  by  a  miracle  we  escaped.  If  those  Arabs 
hadn't  hesitated  to  attack  us  just  those  ten  minutes 
we  shouhil  have  been  wiped  out. 

DiCKt 

Alec  was  splendid,  wasn't  he  ? 

Doctor, 
Yes,  by  Jove!     lie  thought  we  were  done  for. 

Dick, 

What  makes  you  think  that  ? 


44  THE  EXPLORER 

I  )0CTU1{. 

Well,  you  see,  T  know  him  pretty  well.  He's  been 
a  pal  of  yours  for  twenty  years  in  England,  but  I've 
been  with  him  out  here  three  times,  and  I  tell  you 
there's  not  much  about  a  man  that  you  don't  know 
then. 

Dick. 

\\'ell  ? 

Doctor. 

Well,  when  things  arc  going  smoothly  and  every- 
thing's nourishing,  he's  apt  to  be  a  bit  irritable.  He 
keeps  rather  to  "himself,  and  he  doesn't  say  much 
unless  you  do  something  he  doesn't  approve  of. 

Dick. 
And  then,  by  Jove,  he  comes  down   on  one  like  a 
thousand  of  bricks.     It's  not  for  nothing  the  natives 
call  him  Thunder  and  Lightning. 

Doctor. 
But  when  things  begin  to  look  black,  his  spirits  go 
up  like  one  o'clock.     And   the  worse  they   are,   the 
more  cheerful  he  is. 

Dick. 
It's  one  of  his  most  irritating  characteristics. 

Doctor. 
When  every  one  is  starving  with  hunger,  and  dead 
tired,  and  soaked  to  the  J^kin,  ^^ackenzie  fairly  bubbles 
over  with  goud-humour. 


THE  EXPLORER  45 

Dick. 
When  I'm  in  a  bad  temper,  J  much  prefer  every  one 
else  to  be  in  a  bad  temper  too. 

]  Doctor. 

These  last  few  days,  he's  been  positively  hilarious. 
Yesterday  he  was  cracking  jokes  with  the  natives. 

Dick. 

[Dr)/b/.]  Scotch  jokes!  I  daresay  they  sound 
funny  in  an  African  dialect. 

Doctor. 
I've    never   seen    him    more   cheerful.     I   said   to 
myself  :  By  the   Lord   Harry,  the  chief  thinks  we're 
in  a  devil  of  a  bad  way. 

Dick. 

Thank  Heaven,  it's  all  over  now.  We've  none  of 
us  had  any  sleep  for  three  days,  and  when  I  once  get 
off,  I  don't  mean  to  wake  up  for  a  week. 

Doctor. 

I  must  go  and  see  the  rest  of  my  patients.  Perkins 
has  got  a  bad  dose  of  fever  this  time.  He  was  quite 
delirious  a  while  ago. 

Dick. 

By  Jove,  I'd  almost  forgotten.  How  one  changes 
out  here  !  Here  am  I  feeling  happy  and  comfortable 
and  inclined  to  make  a  little  jest  or  two,  and  I've 
forgotten  already  that  poor  Richardson  is  dead  and 
Lord  knows  how  many  natives-. 


46  THE  EXPLORER 

J)()CT()H. 

Poor  chap,  we  could  ill  spare  him.  Tlie  fates 
never  choose  the  right  man. 

Dick. 
Wliat  do  you  mean  by  tlial  ^ 

Doctor. 
1  f  we  had  to  lose  some  one,  it  would  have  been  a 
damned   sight  better  if  that  young  cub  had  got  the 
bullet  which  killed  poor  llichardson. 

Dick. 
George  Allerton  ? 

Doctor. 
TTo  woukln't  have  been  much  loss,  would  he  ? 

Dick. 
No,  I'm  afraid  he  wouldn't. 

Doctor. 

iVlackenzio  has  been  very  patient  with  liim.  I 
wonder  he  didn't  send  him  back  to  the  coast 
months  ago,  when  he  sacked  IMacinnery. 

Dick. 
Poor  George,  everything  has  been  against  him. 

Doctor. 
Souio  men  have  got  natures  so  crooked  that  wifli 
everv  chance  in  the  world  to  go  straight  they  can't 


THE  EXPLORER  47 

manage  it.     The  only  thing  is  to  let  thorn  go  to  the 
devil  as  best  they  may. 

Dick. 

Alec  was  bound  to  give  him  another  chance.  |  Alec 
Mackexzje  comes  in.]  Ilulloa,  Alec!  "Where  liave 
you  been  ? 

Alec. 

I've  been  going  the  round  of  the  outlying  sentries. 

All  serene  ? 

Alec. 

Yes.  I've  just  seen  a  native  messenger  that 
Mindabi  sent  to  me. 

DOCTOII. 

Anything  important  ? 

Alec. 
[Ctirtb/.]  Yes.     How's  the  arm,  Dick? 

Dick. 

Oh,  that's  nothing.     It's  only  a  scratch. 

Alec. 

You'd  better  not  make  too  light  of  it.  The 
smallest  wound  has  a  way  of  being  troublesome  in 
this  country. 

DOCTOTI. 

He'll  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two. 


48  THE  EXPLORER 

TTow  aro  tlie  otliois? 

DoCTdlJ. 

They're  going  on  pretty  well  on  the  whole. 
Perkins,  of  course,  will  be  down  for  some  days 
longer.  And  some  of  the  natives  are  rather  badly 
hurt.     Those  devils  have  got  explosive  bullets. 

A  LEC. 

Any  one  in  great  danger? 

Doctor. 
No,  I  don't  think  so.     There  are  two  men  who  are 
in  rather  a  l,)ad  way,  but  all  they  want  is  rest. 

A  LEG. 

I  see. 

Dick. 

I  say,  have  you  had  anything  to  eat  lately? 

Alec. 

\]VUh  a  Jcnif/h.]  Good  Lord!  I  quite  forgot.  I 
wonder  when  tlie  dickens  I  had  some  food  last. 

Dtck. 
[Smiling.]  You've  had  nothing  to-day,  have  you  ? 

Alec. 
No,  T   don't   think   so.     Those   Arabs  kept  us  so 
confoundedly  busy. 


THE  EXPLORER  49 

Dick. 
You  must  be  devilish  hungry. 

Alec. 

Now  you  mention  it,  I  think  I  am.  And  thirsty, 
by  Jove !  I  wouldn't  give  my  thirst  for  an  elephant 
tusk. 

Dick. 

And  to  think  there's  nothing  but  tepid  water  to 
drink ! 

DOCTOK. 

I'll  go  and  tell  the  boy  to  bring  you  some  food. 
It's  a  rotten  game  to  play  tricks  with  your  digestion 
like  that. 

Alec. 

[Gaily. ']  Stern  man,  the  doctor,  isn't  he  ?  It  won't 
hurt  me  once  in  a  way.  And  I  shall  enjoy  it  all  the 
more  now. 


[Calling.^  Selim 


Doctor. 


Alec. 


No,  don't  trouble.  The  poor  chap's  just  turned  in, 
dropping  with  sleep.  I  told  him  he  might  till  I 
called  him.  I  don't  want  much,  and  I  can  easily  get 
it  myself.  [lie  goes  to  a  case  and  takes  out  a  tin  of 
meat  and  some  skip's  biscidts.]  It's  rather  a  nuisance 
that  we've  not  been  able  to  get  any  game  lately. 

[lie  sets  the  food  doion  before  him,  sits  down, 
and  begins  to  eat. 


50  THE  EXVLORER 

Dick. 

[Ironically.']  Api^tising,  isn't  it  ? 

Alec. 
Sl)lendid  ! 

])1CK. 

You  luivo  all  the  instincts  of  the  primeval  savage, 
Alec.     It  enrages  and  digusts  nie. 

Alec. 

[With  a  laugh.]  Why? 

Dick. 

You  take  food  for  the  gross  and  bestial  purpose  of 
appe;ising  your  hunger.  You  have  no  appreciation 
for  the  delicacies  of  eating  as  a  fine  art. 

Alec. 
The  meat's  getting  rather  mouldy,  isn't  it  ? 

Dick. 

]  )amnable  !  It's  been  a  source  of  great  anxiety  to 
me  in  England. 

Alec. 
What  is  he  talking  about  now  'i 

Dick. 

I  was  going  on  with  the  thread  of  my  observations, 
which  you  interrupted  with  the  entirely  obvious 
remark  that  the  tinned  meat  was  getting  mouldy. 


THE  UXl'LORER  5^ 

Alec. 
I  apologise  profusely.     Pray  go  on  ! 

Dick. 

I  was  about  to  observe  that  even  in  England  you 
will  eat  the  most  carefully  ordered  meal  with  an 
indifference  which  is  an  outrage  to  decency.  Indeed, 
you  pay  less  attention  to  it  than  here,  because  at  all 
events  you  do  notice  that  the  meat  is  mouldy.  But 
if  any  one  gives  you  a  good  dinner,  you  Jiotice 
nothing.  I've  given  him  priceless  port,  Doctor,  and 
he  drank  it  as  though  it  were  cooking  sherry. 

DOCTOK. 

I  confess  it  is  lamentable.  But  why  is  it  a  source 
of  anxiety  to  you  '^ 

Dick. 
What  on  earth  is  to  happen  to  him  in  his  old  age  ? 

Alec. 
Explain  yourself,  my  friend.     Clearly  but  with  as 
much  brevity  as  possible. 

Dick. 
The  pleasure  of  eating  is  the  only  pleasure  that 
remains  to  the  old.  Love — what  is  love  when 
you  lose  your  figure,  and  your  hair  grows  thin  ^ 
Knowledge — one  can  never  know  everything,  and 
the  desire  passes  with  the  tire  of  youth.  Even 
ambition  fails  you  in  the  end.  But  to  those  who 
have    lived    wisely    and    well,   there    remain    three 


52  THE  EXPLORER 

l>k'a.sui-e.s  every  cLiy  of  tlieir  Yivea :  their   breakfast, 
tiieir  luncheon,  and  tlieir  dinner. 

Alec. 

[With  a  laiKjh.]  I  wouldn't  worry  about  my  old  ago 
if  I  were  you,  Dick. 

Dick. 

Why  ? 

Alec. 

Because  I  think  it's  ten  to  one  that  we  shall  all  Ije 
dead  to-morrow  morning. 

Doctor. 
What? 

[There   is  a  slifjht  pause  lohile  both  men  stare 
at  him. 

Dick. 

Is  this  one  of  your  little  jokes.  Alec  ? 

Alec. 
You  have  often  ob.served  that  I  joke  with  ditiiculty. 

JJOCTUU. 

But  what's  wrong  now  ? 

Alec. 

You'll  neither  of  you  sleep  in  your  beds  to-night. 
Another  .sell  for  the  mo.s(juitoes,  isn't  it  ?  1  propose 
to  break  uj)  the  camp  and  start  marching  as  .^oon  as 
the  moon  L'oes  down. 


THE  EXPLORER  53 

Dick. 

I  say,  it's  a  bit  thick  after  a  tlay  like  tliifc;.     We're 
all  so  done  up  that  we  shan't  be  able  to  go  a  mile. 

Alec. 
Nonsense,  you  will  have  had  two  hours'  rest. 

Doctor. 

But  some  of  those  fellows  who  are  wounded  can't 
possibly  be  moved. 

Alec. 
They  must ! 

Doctor. 
I  won't  answer  for  their  lives. 

Alec. 
We  must   take  the  risk.     Our  only  chance  is  to 
make   a   bold    dash   for  it,  and  we  can't  leave  the 
wounded  here. 

Dick. 
I  suppose  there's  going  to  be  a  deuce  of  a  row  ? 

Alec. 
[Grimly.']  There  is. 

Dick, 
Your  companions  seldom  have  a  chance  to  complain 
of  the  monotony  of  their  existence,  Alec.     Wliat  are 
you  going  to  do  now  ? 


54  V/7ii  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
At  this  moment,  I'm  going  to  fill  my  pipe. 

[T/tere  is  a  pause  wJiile  Alkc  fills  and  lUjhts 
his  pi 2)0. 

Dick. 
I    gather    from    the   general    amiability    of    your 
demeanour  that  we're  in  a  rather  tight  place  ? 

Alec. 
Tighter  than  any  of  your  patent-leather  boots,  my 
friend. 

Dick. 
[Gravehj  ]  Have  we  any  chance  of  getting  through, 
old  man  ? 

Alec. 
[Lightly.]  Oh,    I    don't   know.     There's   always   a 
chance. 

])ICK. 

Don't  grin  at  me  in  that  irritating  fashion. 

Alec. 
You    must    wish    you    were    treading    the    light 
fantastic  toe  in  a  London  ball-room,  Dick. 

Dick. 
Fiankly  T  do.  ...    I  suppo.se  we're  going  to  fight 
again  ? 

Alec. 
Jvke  Jvilkennv  cnts. 


THE  EXPLORER  55 

Dick. 

[Briskhj.]  Well,  fit  all  events  that's  some  comfort. 
If  I  am  going  to  be  done  out  of  my  night's  rest,  I 
should  like  to  take  it  out  of  some  one. 

Alec. 

If  things  turn  out  all  right,  we  shall  have  come 
near  finishing  the  job,  and  there  won't  be  much  more 
slave-raiding  in  this  part  of  Africa. 

Dick. 
And  if  things  don't  turn  out  all  right  ? 

Alec. 

Why,  then  I'm  afraid  the  tea-tables  of  jNIayfair 
will  be  deprived  of  your  scintillating  repartee  for  ever. 

Dick. 

Well,  I've  had  a  very  good  time  in  my  life.  I've 
loved  a  little,  I've  looked  at  some  good  pictures,  read 
some  thundering  tine  books,  and  I've  worked  and 
played.  If  I  can  only  account  for  a  few  more  of 
those  damned  scoundrels  before  I  die,  I  shouldn't 
think  I  had  much  to  complain  of. 

Alec. 
[Smiling.^  You're  a  philosopher,  Dick. 

Dick. 

Doesn't  the  possibility  of  an  extremely  unpleasant 
demise  tempt  you  to  a  few  appropriate  reflections  ? 


56  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 

I  don't  know  that  it  docs.  I'm  a  bit  of  a  fatalist, 
and  my  theory  is  that  when  my  time  comes  nothing 
can  lielp  me,  but  at  the  l)ottom  of  my  heart  1  can't 
resist  tlie  conviction  that  J  shan't  die  till  1  let  myself. 

Doctor. 

Well,  I  must  go  and  put  things  in  order.  I'll 
bandage  those  fellows  up,  and  ]  hope  they'll  stand  the 
jolting. 

Alec. 

What  about  Perkins  ? 

Doctor. 

Lord  knows  !  I'll  try  and  keep  him  quiet  with 
chloral. 

Alec. 

You  needn't  say  anything  about  striking  camp.  1 
don't  propose  that  any  one  should  know  till  a  (piartcr 
of  an  liour  before  we  start. 

DOCTOIJ. 

But  that  won't  give  them  time. 

Alec. 

It  must.  I've  trained  them  often  enough  to  get 
on  the  march  quickly. 

Doctor. 
\^'ry  well. 

[(lEOKcE   Al.LIlitTox  cohiffi  ill  rrs-  ////•  1>im  Tol!  is 
on  the  }>oint  <>J'</oi/i(/. 


THE  EXPLORER  57 

(tEORGE. 

Can  I  conic  in  ? 

Alec. 
Yes  .  .  .    Doctor  ! 

DOCTOT^. 

Hulloa ! 

Alec. 
You  might  stay  a  minute,  will  you  ? 

Doctor. 
[Coming  hach.]  Certainly. 

Alec. 
Didn't   Selim   tell   you   that  I    wanted    to   speak 
to  you  ? 

George. 
That's  why  I've  come. 

Alec. 
You've  taken  your  time  about  it. 

George, 
I  say,  could  you  give  me  a  drink  of  brandy  ?     I'm 
awfully  done  up. 

Alec. 


\_Shorthj.'\  There's  no  brandy  left. 

George. 
Hasn't  the  doctor  s;ot  some  ? 


58  THE  EXPLORER 

Alkc. 

No! 

yTIiere  is  a  pause.     Alec  looks  at  him  sloidy. 

George. 

Why  are  you  all  looking  at  me  like  that?     You 
look  as  if  you  were  going  to  try  me  for  something. 

Dick. 
Nonsense  !     Don't  be  so  nervous. 

Alec. 
\^^{hniptly.'\    Do    you   know   anything    about    the 
death  of  that  Turkana  woman  ? 

George. 
No  !     How  should  I  ? 

Alec. 
Come  now,  you  must  know  something   about    it. 
Last  Tuesil.ty  you  came  into  camp  and  told  me  the 
Turkana  were  very  excited. 

ClEoncE. 

[UnioilliiKjh/.]  Oh,  yes  !      J    remem))er  something 
about  it.     It  had  slipped  my  memory. 

Alec. 
Well  ? 

George. 
J'm  not  very  clear  about  it.     The  woman  had  been 
shot,  hadn't  she?       One  of  our  station  boys  liatl  be«'n 


THE  EXPLORER  59 

playing   the  fool    with   hor,    and    ho   seems  to  have 
shot  her. 

Alec. 
Have  you  made  no  inquiiies  as  to  who  the  man 
was  ? 

George. 

[In  a  surly  loay.]  I  haven't  had  time.     We've  all 
been  worked  oft*  our  legs  during  these  three  days. 

Alec. 
Do  you  suspect  no  one  ? 

George. 
I  don't  think  so. 

Alec. 
Think  a  moment. 

George. 

The  only  man  who  might  have  done  it  is  that  big 
scoundrel  whom  we  got  on  the  coast,  the  Swahili. 

A  LEG. 

What  makes  you  think  that  ? 

George. 

He's  been  making  nn  awful   nuisance  of  himself, 
and  I  know  he  was  running  after  her. 

Alec. 
I  understand  she  complained  about  him  to  you  ? 

George. 
Yes. 


6o  THE  EXriORER 

Alec. 

Do  you  tliiiik  tliat  would  l)e  onou^'li  evidence  to 
punish  him  on  ? 

Georcje. 

He's  a  thorough  blackguard,  and  after  all,  if  one 
does  make  a  mistake,  he's  only  a  nigger. 

Alec. 

You'll  be  surprised  to  hear  that  when  the  woman 
was  found  she  wasn't  dead. 

[George  gives  a  movement  of  consternation. 

Alec. 
She  didn't  die  for  nearly  an  hour, 

George. 

\^After  a  short  pause?\  Was  she  able  to  say  any- 
thing ? 

Alec. 
She  accused  you  of  having  shot  her. 

George. 
Me? 

Alec. 

It  appears  that  j/on  were  playing  the  fool  witii  her, 
and  when  she  got  angry  you  took  out  a  revolver  and 
fired  point  blank.  Presumably  that  slie  should  tell 
no  tales. 

George. 

It's  a  stupid   lie.      Vou  know  what  they  are.      It's 


THE  EXPLORER  61 

just  like  them  to  tell  an  absurd  lie  like  that.  Vou 
wouldn't  believe  a  parcel  of  niggers  rather  than  me, 
would  you?  After  all,  my  word's  worth  more  than 
theirs. 

Alec. 

[  Taking  fro  m  h  is  i^ockei  an  exploded  cartridge.]  This 
was  found  about  two  yards  from  the  body.  As  you 
see,  it's  a  revolver  cartridge.  It  was  brought  to  mo 
this  evening. 

George. 

I  don't  know  what  that  proves. 

Alec. 
You  know  just  as  well  as  I  do  that  none  of  our 
natives  has  a  revolver.     Besides  ourselves  only  two  or 
tln-ee  of  the  servants  have  them. 

[George  becomes  white  ivithfear.    He  takes  out 
his  handkerchief  and  vnpes  his  face. 

Alec. 
[Quietly.]  Will  you  give  me  your  revolver  ? 

George. 
I  haven't  got  it.     I  lost  it  in  the  skirmish  this 
afternoon.     I  didn't  tell  you  as  I  thought  you'd  be 
annoyed. 

Alec. 

I  saw  you  cleaning  it  less  than  an  hour  ago. 

(lEURGE. 

[With  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders.]    Perhaps  it's  in  my 
tent,  I'll  go  and  see. 


2  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
\/ihxirj)hj ^^  Stop  here. 

George. 

\An(jrih/.\  You've  no  right  to  talk  to  me  hke  that. 
I'm  sick  to  death  of  being  ordered  about.  You  seem 
to  tliink  I'm  a  dog.  I  came  out  here  of  my  own  free 
will,  and  I  won't  let  you  treat  me  as  if  I  were  a 
servant. 

Alec. 

If  you  put  your  hand  to  your  hip  pocket,  I  think 
you'll  find  your  revolver  there. 

George. 
I'm  not  going  to  give  it  to  you. 

Alec. 

\Qaietly.]  D'you  want  me  to  come  and  take  it  from 
you  myself  ? 

[llic  two  men  stare  at  one  anotJter  for  a  moment. 
Then  George  sloicly  jmts  his  hand  to  his 
pocket.  lie  takes  out  the  revolver  and 
suddenly  aims  at  Alec.  Dick  beats  up 
his  arm  as  he  Jire><,  and.  the  Doctor, 
sjyi'inginy  forward,  seizes  him  round  the 
waist.     Alec  remains  still. 

Dick. 

\I)arin(j  the  struy(jle.\  You  young  blackguard  ! 

GEOKCiK. 

Let  me  go,  damn  you  ! 


THE  EXPLORER  63 

Alec. 
You  need  not  hold  him. 

[  I'hey  leave  go  of  George,  loho  sinks  cowerimj 
into  a  chair.  Dick  hands  the  revolver  to 
Alec,  lie  silently  fits  into  a  chamber  the 
cartridge  that  had  been  brought  to  him. 

Alec. 
You  see  that  it  fits.     Hadn't  you  better  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it  ? 

George. 

\Cowed.'\  Yes,  I  shot  her.  She  made  a  row,  and 
the  devil  got  into  me.  I  didn't  know  I'd  done 
anything  till  she  screamed  and  I  saw  the  blood  .  .  . 
What  a  fool  I  was  to  throw  the  cartridge  away! 
I  wanted  to  have  all  the  chambers  charged. 

Alec. 
Do  you  remember  that  two  months  ago  I  hanged 
a  man  to  the  nearest  tree  because  he'd  outraged  a 
native  woman  ? 

Geo  JIG  E. 
[Springing  up  in  terror.']  You  wouldn't  do  that  to 
me,  Alec.     Oh,  God,  no,  Alec,  have  mercy  on  me. 
You  wouldn't  hang  me.     Oh,  why  did  I  ever  come  to 
this  damned  place  ? 

Alec. 
You  need  not  be  afraid.     I'm  not  going  to  do  that. 
In  any  case  I  must  preserve  the  native  respect  for 
the  white  man. 


64  THE  EXPLORER 

George. 
I    was    half   drunk  when   I  saw  that  woman.     T 
wasn't  responsible  for  my  actions. 

Alec. 

The  result  is  that  the  whole  tribe  has  turned 
against  us.  The  chief  is  my  friend,  and  he  sent  a 
message  to  tell  me  he  couldn't  hold  them  in.  It's 
from  him  I  got  the  cartridge.  It  wouldn't  be  so 
serious,  only  the  best  fighting  part  of  our  forces  are 
the  Turkana,  and  we  must  expect  treachery.  They've 
stirred  up  the  neighbouring  tribes  against  us,  and  all 
the  work  we've  been  doing  for  a  year  is  undone. 
That's  the  explanation  of  the  Aralos'  attack  three 
days  ago. 

George. 

[Svllenly.\  I  knew  it  was  all  my  fault. 
Alec. 

The  natives  have  made  up  their  minds  to  join  the 
slave-traders,  and  we  shall  be  attacked  on  all  sides 
to-morrow.  We  can't  hold  out  against  God  knows 
how  many  thousands, 

George. 

D'you  mean  you'll  all  be  killed  ( 

A  LEC. 

]f  we  remain  here  there's  no  escape, 
Geoiige. 

\ln  a  ii'Jiisjier.\  What  arc  you  going  to  do  to  me. 
Alec? 

[Alec  icalks  up  and  doicn  tJie  tent. 


TEE  EXPLORER  65 

A  LEO. 
[Presently.']  I   think  you  might  go  and  see  your 
patients  now,  doctor. 

Doctor. 
Very  well. 

Dick. 
Shall  I  go  too,  Alec  ? 

Alec. 
No,    you    can    stay    here.     But    don't   open    your 
mouth  till  you're  spoken  to. 

[The  Doctor  goes  out. 

George. 
I'm  sorry   I   did  that  silly  thing  just  now.     I'm 
glad  I  didn't  hit  you. 

Alec. 
It  doesn't  matter  at  all.     I'd  forgotten  all  about  it. 

George. 
I  lost  my  head.     I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing. 

Alec. 

You  need  not  trouble  about  that.  In  Africa  even 
the  strongest  people  are  apt  to  get  excited  and  lose 
their  balance. 

[Alec  re-lights  his  pi^^e,  and  there  is  a  very 
short  pause. 

Alec. 

Did  you  ever  know  that  before  we  came  away 
I  asked  Lucy  to  marry  me  '( 


66  THE  EXPLORER 

Oe()Iu;k. 
1  knew  you  cared  for  her. 

She  asked  me  to  bring  you  here  in  the  hope  that 
you  would  regain  the  good  name  of  your  family. 
I  think  that  is  the  object  she  has  most  at  heart  in  the 
world.  It's  as  great  as  her  love  for  you.  The  plan 
hasn't  been  much  of  a  success,  has  it  ? 

George. 
She  ought  to  have  known  that  I  wasn't  suited  for 
this  kind  of  life. 

Alec. 

I  saw  very  soon  that  you  were  weak  and  irresolute. 
But  I  hoped  to  make  something  of  you.  Your 
intentions  eeemed  good  enough,  but  you  never  had 
the  strength  to  carry  them  out  .  .  .  I'm  sorry  if  I 
seem  to  be  preaching  to  you. 

George. 

[Bitterly^  Oh,  d'you  think  I  care  what  any  one 
says  to  me  now  ? 

Alec. 

\(jlrarely,hut  notunlcindhj.']  Then  I  found  you  were 
drinking.  I  told  you  that  no  man  could  stand  liquor 
in  this  country,  and  you  gave  me  your  word  of  honour 
that  you  wouldn't  touch  it  again. 

George. 
Yes,  I  broke  it.    I  couldn't  help  it  ;  the  temptation 


THE  EXPLORER  67 

Alec. 

Wlien  we  came  to  the  station  at  Muneas  you  and 
Macinnery  got  blind  drunk,  and  the  whole  camp  saw 
3'ou.  I  ought  to  have  sent  you  back  to  the  coast  then, 
but  it  would  have  broken  Lucy's  heart. 

George. 
It  was  Macinnery 's  fault. 

Alec. 

It's  because  I  thought  he  was  to  blame  that  I  sent 
him  back  alone.  I  wanted  to  give  you  another  chance. 
It  struck  me  that  the  feeling  of  authority  might  have 
some  influence  on  you,  and  so  when  we  came  to  the 
lake  I  left  you  to  guard  the  ferry.  I  put  the  chief 
part  of  the  stores  in  your  care  and  marched  on.  I 
needn't  remind  you  what  happened  then. 

[George  looks  doicn  sulkily,  and  in  defaxdt  oj 
excuses  keej')^  silent. 

Alec. 

I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  hopeless.  You 
seemed  to  me  rotten  through  and  through. 

George. 
[WHli  a  little  laityh.]  Like  my  father  before  me. 

Alec. 

I  couldn't  ])elieve  a  word  you  said.  You  did  every- 
thing you  shouldn't  have  done.  The  result  was  that 
the  men  mutinied,  and  if  I  hadn't  come  back  in  the 


68  THE  EXPLORER 

nick  of  time  they'd  have  killed  you  and  looted  all 
tlie  stores. 

You  always  blame  me  for  everything.  A  man's 
not  responsible  for  what  he  does  when  he's  doAvn 
with  fever. 

Alec. 

It  was  too  late  to  send  you  back  to  the  coast  then, 
and  I  w\as  obliged  to  take  you  on.  And  now  the  end 
has  come.  Your  murder  of  that  woman  has  put  us  all 
in  deadly  peril.  Already  to  your  charge  lie  the  deaths 
of  Richardson  and  almost  twenty  natives.  Tribes  that 
were  friendly  have  joined  with  the  Arabs,  and  we're 
as  near  destruction  as  we  can  possibly  be. 

Geouge. 
AVhat  are  you  going  to  do  ? 

A  LEC, 

We're  far  away  from  the  coast,  and  I  must  take  the 
law  into  my  own  hands. 

George. 
[With  a  (j(tsp.'\  You're  not  going  to  kill  me  ? 

Alec. 
Are  you  fond  of  Lucy  ? 

George. 
[Brohenly.']  You— you    know    I    am.     Why   d'you 
remind  me  of  her  now  ?     Jve  made  a  rotten  mess  of 
everything,  and  I'm  l»L*tter  out  of  the  way,     Hut  tiiink 


THE  EXPLORER  69 

of  the  disgrace  of  it.     It'll  kill  Lucy.   .   .  .   And  she 
was  hoping  Td  do  so  much. 

Aleg. 
Listen  to  me.  Our  only  chance  of  escaping  from 
the  confounded  fix  we're  in  is  to  make  a  sudden  attack 
on  the  Arabs  before  the  natives  join  them.  We  shall 
be  enormously  outnumbered,  but  we  may  just  .smash 
them  if  we  can  strike  to.  night.  "My  plan  is  to  start 
marching  as  if  I  didn't  know  that  the  Tnrkana  were 
going  to  turn  against  us.  After  an  hour  all  the 
whites  but  one,  and  the  Swahilis  whom  1  can  trust 
implicitly,  will  take  a  short  cut.  The  Arabs  will  have 
had  news  of  our  starting,  and  they'll  try  to  cut  us  off 
at  the  pass.  I  shall  fall  on  them  just  as  they  begin  to 
attack.     D'you  understand  ? 

George. 
Yes. 

Alec. 
Now  I  must  have  one  white  man  to  head  the 
Turkana,  and  that  man  will  run  the  greatest  possible 
danger.  I'd  go  myself,  only  the  Swahilis  wont  fight 
unless  I  lead  them.  .  .  .  Are  you  willing  to  take  that 
post  ? 

I? 


George. 


Alec. 

I  could  order  you,  but  the  job's  too  dangerous  for 
me  to  force  it  on  any  one.  If  you  refuse,  I  shall  call 
the  others  together  and  ask  some  one  to  volunteer. 


70  THE  EXPLORER 

In  tliat  case  you  will  have  to  liiul  your  way  back  alone 
as  best  you  can  to  the  coast. 

Geojige. 
No,  no!      Anything  rather  than  the  shame  of  that. 

Alec. 

I  wout  hide  from  you  that  it  means  almost  certain 
death.  But  there's  no  other  way  of  saving  ourselves. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  you  show  perfect  courage  at  the 
moment  the  Arabs  attack  and  the  Turkana  find  that 
we've  given  them  the  slip,  you  may  escape.  If  you 
do,  I  promise  nothing  shall  be  said  of  all  that  has 
happened  here. 

George. 

All  right.  Ill  do  that.  And  I  thank  you  with  all 
my  heart  for  giving  me  the  chance. 

Alec. 

I'm  glad  youVe  accepted.  Whatever  happens 
you'll  have  done  a  brave  action  in  your  life.  [Tie  holds 
Old  his  hand  to  George,  ^oho  takes  it.]  1  think  there's 
nothing  more  to  be  said.  You  must  be  ready  to  start 
in  half  an  hour.  Here's  your  revolver.  Remember 
that  one  chamber's  empty.  You'd  better  put  in 
another  cartridge. 

George. 

Yes,  I'll  do  that.  [He  (joes  out. 

Dick. 
D'you  think  he  has  any  chance  of  escaping  i 


THE  EXPLORER  71 

Alec. 
If  he  has  pluck  he  may  get  through. 

Dick. 

Well ! 

Alec. 
To-morrow  we  shall  know  if  he  has  that  last  virtue 
of  a  blackguard— courage. 

Dick. 
And  if  he  hasn't,  it's  death  you're  sending  him  to  ? 

Alec. 
Yes.     It's  death  ! 


EXD    OF    THE    SECOND    ACT 


THE  THIRD  ACT 

ScKXE :  .1  sniokiny-rooiii  at  Lady  KY^h^viY  a  pleading  hi/ 
an  archival/  into  a  draicinci-rooiii  at  the  hack.  O.i 
the  r'ujht  is  Of  glass  door  which  leads  into  the  garden. 
On  one  side  is  a  sofa ;  on  the  other  a  tahle  with 
cigarettes,  matches,  vJiiskey,  sodas,  etc. 

Lady  Kelsey  is  giving  a  dance,  and  the  iiuisic  of  the 
Lancers  is  heard  vaguehj  from  the  hall-room  as 
the  curtain  rises.  Mrs.  Crowley  and  Sir  Rohert 
BouLGER  are  sitting  doimi.  Lady  Kelsey  comes 
in  with  the  Hev.  James  Carbery. 

Lady  Jvelsey. 

Oh,  you  wretched  people,  why  aren't  you  dancing? 
It's  too  bad  of  you  to  hide  yourselves  here  ! 

ISIiis.  Crowley. 

AVe  thought  no  one  would  find  us  in  the  smoking- 
room.  Jiut  why  have  you  abandoned  your  guests, 
Lady  Kelsey  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Oh,  I've  got  them  all  comfortably  settled  in  the 
Lancers,  and  I'm  free  to  rest  my.sclf  for  a  quarter  of 


THE  EXPLORER  73 

an   hour,     ^'ou  don't  know    wlint  agonies   I've  been 
suflering  the  whole  evening. 

j\Iiis.  Crowley. 
Good  gracious  me  !     Why? 

Laijy  Kelsey. 
I'm  so  afraid  Alec  Mackenzie  will  come. 

BOULGER. 

You  needn't  worry  about  that,  Aunt  Alice.  He'll 
never  venture  to  show  his  face. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  It  was  impossible  to 
put  the  dance  off.  It's  too  dreadful  that  these 
horrible  revelations  should  .... 

Carbery. 
[^Supplying  the  V)ord.'\  Transpire. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Yes,  transpire  on  the  very  day  I've  at  last 
persuaded  Lucy  to  come  into  the  world  again.  I 
wish  Dick  would  come. 

Boulger. 
Yes,  he'll  be  able  to  tell  us  something. 

Mrs.  (J  row  ley. 
lUit  will  he'(? 


74  THE  EXPLORER 

Wherever  I  ^o  people  are  talking  about  Mr. 
Mackenzie,  and  I'm  bound  to  say  I've  found  nobody 
who  has  a  good  word  for  him. 

BOULGER. 

[Bitterly.']  Ilumpfcy-dumpty's  had  a  great  fall. 

Carbery. 
I  wonder  if  I  might  have  a  cigarette  ? 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I'm  sure  you  might.     And  if  you  press  me  dread- 
fully, I'll  have  one,  too. 

J30ULGER. 

Don't  press  her.     She's  already  had  far  too  many. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
AVell,  I'll  forego  the  pressing,  but  not  the  cigarette. 

Carbery. 
[Ilanding  her  the  box  and  giving  her  a  light.]    It's 
against  all  my  principles,  you  know. 

;Mrs.  Crowley. 
What  is  the  use  of  principles  except  to  give  one  an 
airreeable  sensation  of  wickedness  when  one  doesn't 
act  up  to  them  ? 

[Dick  comes  in  as  she  speaks. 

DrcK. 
My    dear    lady,    you're    as    epigrammatic    ns    a 


THE  EXPLORER  75 

(Inimatist.     Do  you   say  such  things  from  clioicc  or 
necessity  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 


J)ick ! 

BOULGEII. 

Dick ! 

Mrs.  Crowley, 

Mr.  liomas  ! 

Carbery. 

Ah! 

yrhefour  exclamations  are  simultaneous. 

Dick. 
This    enthusiasm    at    my    appearance    is    no   less 
gratifying  than  unexpected. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
I'm  so  glad  you've  come  at  last.     Now  we  shall  get 
at  the  truth. 

BOULGER. 

[Imjyatiently.']  Well? 

Dick, 
My  dear  people,  what  are  you  talking  about  ? 

BoULGER. 

Oh,  don't  be  such  an  ass  ! 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Good    heavens,  didn't   you   read    the    Times    this 
morning  ? 


76  Tini  RXPLORE 

Dick. 
I  only  caine  back  from   Paris  to-night.      l>esides,  I 
never  read  the  pnpers  except  in  August. 

Mrs.  Crowlky. 
[Ji'aiiiiny  Jicr  ei/ehrcirf^.]    "When  there's  nothing  in 
them  ? 

Dick. 
Pardon  me,  I'm  an  enger  student  of  the  sea-serpent 
and  the  giant  gooseberry. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

l\Iy  dear  Dick,  it's  too  shocking.  I  wish  I'd  had 
the  courage  to  write  and  ask  Mr.  INIackenzie  not  to 
come.  l>ut  since  you  both  came  back  from  Africa  a 
month  ago  he's  been  here  nearly  every  day.  And 
he's  been  so  good  and  kind  to  us,  I  couldn't  treat 
him  as  though  there  was  no  doubt  the  story  was  true. 

BoULfJER. 

There  can't  be  the  least  doubt  about  it.  By 
George,  I  should  like  to  kick  him. 

Dick. 

[Dri/h/.]  ]S[y  dear  chap,  Alec  is  a  liardy  Scot  and 
bigger  tlian  you,  so  I  shouldn't  advise  you  to  try. 

BOULGER. 

I  was  engaged  to  dine  Avilh  him  to-night,  but  I 
wired  to  say  I  had  a  headache. 


THE  EXPLORER  77 

Lady  Kelsey. 
What  will  he  think  if  he  sees  you  here  ? 

J  5o  LLC!  Ell. 

He  can  think  what  he  jolly  well  likes. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
I  hope  he  has  the  sense  to  stay  away. 

Carbery. 

I  think  you're  pretty  safe  now,  Lady  Kelsey.  It's 
growing  late. 

Dick. 
Will  some  one  kindly  explain  ? 

Mrs.  Crowley, 

D'you  mean  to  say  you  really  don't  know — seriously  ? 
After  all,  you  were  with  him. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

My  dear  Dick,  there  are  Iwo  columns  of  fiery 
denunciation  in  this  morning's  Times. 

[Dick  is  a  little  startled,  hut  at  once  collects 
himself. 

Dick. 

Oh,  that's  only  the  reaction.  That's  nothing. 
Since  he  arrived  in  Mombassa,  after  three  years  in 
the  heart  of  Africa,  he's  made  almost  a  triumphal 
progress.  Of  course,  it  couldn't  last.  The  reaction 
was  bound  to  come. 


78  THE  EXPLORER 

BOULGER. 

[Loohing  at  him  steadily.']  The  article  is  .signed  l>y 
a  man  named  jMacinnery. 

Djck. 
[Calmly.]  Alec  found  Macinnery  half  starving  at 
Mombassa,  and  took  him  solely  out  of  charity.     But 
he  was  a  worthless  rascal,  and  he  had  to  send  him 
back. 

BoULGER. 

He  gives  ample  proof  for  every  word  he  says. 

Dick. 
"Whenever  an  explorer  comes  home,  there's  some 
one  to  tell  nasty  stories  about  him.  People  forget 
that  kid  gloves  are  not  much  use  in  a  tropical  forest, 
and  grow  veiy  indignant  when  they  hear  that  a 
man  has  used  a  little  brute  force  to  make  himself 
respected. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

Ob,  my  dear  Dick,  it's  much  worse  than  that. 
First  poor  Lucy's  father  died  .   .  . 

Dick. 

You're  not  going  to  count  that  as  an  overwhelming 
misfortune?  "We  were  unanimous  in  describing 
that  gentleman's  demise  as  an  uncommonly  happy 
release. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

But  Lucy  was  heart-broken  all  the  same.  And 
when  her  life  seemed  to  grow  a  little  more  cheerful, 
came  her  brother's  tragic  death. 


THE  EXPLORER  •  79 

Dick. 
[Abruptli/f  to  Mrs.  Cijoavley.]  What  is  it  exactly  ? 

I\Iiis.  Crowley. 
The  long  and  short  of  it  is  that  Mr.  Mackenzie  was 
the  cause  of  George  Allerton's  death. 

Dick. 
Lucy's  brother  was  killed  by  the  slave-traders. 

BOULGER. 

Mackenzie  sent  him  into  a  confounded  trap  to  save 
his  own  dirty  skin. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  I  think  Lucy  is  in  love 
with  Mr.  Mackenzie! 

[Boulger  7nakes  a  slight  movement  y  and  for  a 
moment  there  is  an  uncomfortahle  j^aiise. 

Carbery. 
I  saw^  him  this  evening  in  Piccadilly,  and  I  almost 
ran  into  his  arms.     It  was  quite  awkward. 

Dick. 

[Friyidly.']  Why? 

Oarbeiiy. 

I   don't  think  I-  want  to  shake  the  man's  hand. 
He's  nothing  short  of  a  murderer. 

]>OULGER. 

[Savagely.l  He's  worse  than  that.     He's  ten  times 
worse. 


8o  THE  EXPLORER 

Lady  Kklsky. 
Well,   for  heaven's  t^ake  be  i)olite   to    him  if    he 
comes  to  night. 

Cauijeky. 
I  really  couUln't  bring  myself  to  shake  hands  with 
him. 

Dick. 
[Drylij?[  Don't   you   think   you'd   better  wait  for 
evidence  before  you  condemn  him  ? 

HOULCER. 

My  dear  fellow,  the  letter  in  the  Times  is  absolutely 
damning.  Interviewers  went  to  him  from  the  evening 
papers,  and  he  refused  to  see  them. 

Dick. 
What  does  Lucy  say  of  it  ?     After   all,   she's  the 
person  most  concerned. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
She  doesn't  know.     I  took  care  that  she  shouldn't 
see  the  paper.     I  wanted  to  give  her  this  evening's 
enjoyment  unalloyed. 

Mrs.  Crowley, 

Tjike  care,  here  she  is. 

[Lucy  comes  in. 

Lady    Kei.sev. 
\Siiiilin<f  (did  rearhinij  out  hfr  liaml.']    Wrll.  da)  liuij:  ( 


THE  EXPLORER  8i 

Lucy. 

[Goimj  to  Lady  Kelsey.]  Are  you  growing  very 
tired,  my  aunt  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 

I  can  rest  myself  for  the  time.  I  don't  think  any 
one  else  will  come  now. 

Lucy. 

[Gaily.']  You  faithless  woman,  have  you  forgotten 
the  guest  of  the  evening  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Mr.  Mackenzie  ? 

Lucy. 

[Beiidiny  over  her.]  My  dear,  it  was  charming  of 
you  to  hide  the  paper  from  me  this  morning  .   .  . 

Lady  Kelsey. 

[^Startled.]  Did  you  see  the  letter  ?  I  so  wanted 
you  not  to  till  to-morrow. 

Lucy. 

Mr.  Mackenzie  very  rightly  thought  I  should  know 
at  once  what  was  said  about  him  and  my  brother.  He 
sent  me  the  paper  himself  this  evening. 

BOULGER. 

Did  he  write  to  you  ( 

Lucy. 

No,  he  merely  scribbled  on  a  card :  "  I  think  you 
should  read  this." 


82  THE  EXPLORER 

JJOULGEU. 

Well,  I'm  damned  ! 

Lady  Ki:lsey. 
^Vllat  did  you  thiuk  of  the  letter,  Lucy'^ 

Lucy. 
[J'roudli/.]  I  didn't  believe  it. 

BOULGEII. 

[Bitterly.]  You  must  be  blinded  by  your— fricnd- 
.ship  for  Alec  Mackenzie.  I  never  read  anything 
more  convincing. 

Lucy 

I  could  hardly  believe  him  guilty  of  such  an  odious 
crime  if  he  confessed  it  with  his  own  lips. 

BOULGER. 

Of  course,  he  won't  do  that. 

Dick. 
Did  I  ever  tell  you  how  1  made  acquaintance  with 
Alec  ^     In  the  Atlantic — about  three  hundred  miles 
from  land. 

Mrs,  Cjiuwlev. 
What  a  perfectly   ridiculous   place    for   an    intro- 
duction. 

Dick. 
1  was    a    billy    young   fool   iu    those  days,    and    J. 


THE  EXPLORER  83 

IiiilHtually  played  tho  giddy  goat.  In  the  course  of 
which,  I  fell  overboard  and  was  proceeding  to  drown 
when  Alec  jumped  in  after  me.  It  was  an  incautious 
thing  to  do,  because  he  very  nearly  got  drowned 
himself. 

Lucy. 
That's  not  the  only  heroic  thing  he's  done. 

Dick. 

No,  it's  one  of  his  hobbies  to  risk  his  life  to  save 
unnecessary  and  useless  people.  But  the  funny  thing 
is  tliat  ever  since  ho  saved  mine,  he's  l)een  quite 
absurdly  grateful.  lie  seems  to  think  I  did  him  an 
intentional  service  and  fell  into  the  water  on  purpose 
to  give  him  a  chance  of  pulling  me  out. 

Lucy. 

[With  a  long  look  at  Dick.]  It's  very  kind  and  good 
of  you  to  have  told  that  story. 

[The   BuTLEii   comes   in  and  announces  Alec 
Mackenzie. 

Butler. 
Mr.  Mackenzie. 

Alec. 

[Bkmdhj.]  Ah,  I  thought  I  should  find  you  here, 
Lady  Kelsey. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

[^Shaking  hands  witJi  him^^  How  d'you  do  ?  We've 
just  been  talking  of  you. 


84  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
Really? 

Ladv  Kelsey. 
It's  so  lato,  we  were  afraid  you  wouldn't  come.     1 
should  have  been  dreadfully  disappointed. 

Alec. 
It's  very  kind  of  you  to  say  so.     I've  been  at  the 
Travellers',  reading  various  appreciations  of  my  own 
character. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

[SomeioJial  emharmssed.]  Oh,  I  heard  there  was 
something  about  you  in  the  papers, 

Alec. 

There's  a  good  deal.  I  really  had  no  idea  the  world 
was  so  interested  in  me. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

It's  charming  of  you  to  come  to-night.  I'm  sure 
you  hate  dances ! 

Alec. 

Oh,  no,  they  interest  me  enormously.  I  remember, 
one  of  the  Kings  of  Uganda  gave  a  dance  in  my 
honour.  Ten  thousand  warriors  in  war-paint.  I 
assure  you  it  was  most  impressive. 

Dick. 

]\Iy  dear  fellow,  if  [.aint  is  the  attraction  you  really 
need  not  go  much  farther  than  Mayfair. 


THE  EXPLORER  85 

A  LEC. 

[rretenduKj  for  the  Jirst  ilme  to  notice  J3()ULC!i;ii.] 
Ah,  there's  my  little  fiiend  Uobbie.  1  thought  you 
had  a  headache  ( 

Lady  Kelsey. 

[Quickly.']  I'm  afraid  Bobby  is  dreadfully  dissipated. 
He's  not  looking  at  all  well. 

Alec. 
[Good-humonredhj.]    You  shouldn't  keep  such  late 
hours,  Bobbie.    At  your  age  one  wants  one's  beauty 
sleep. 

BOULGER. 

It's  very  kind  of  you  to  take  an  interest  in  me. 
My  headache  has  passed  off. 

Alec. 
I'm  very  glad.    What  do  you  use — Phenacetin  ? 

BOULGER. 

It  went  away  of  its  own  accord — after  dinner. 

Alec. 
[Smiling.]  So  you  resolved  to  give  the  girls  a  treat 
by  coming  to  Lady  Kelsey's  dance  ?  How  nice  of  you 
not  to  disappoint  them  !  [lie  turns  to  Lucy  and  holds 
out  his  hcmd.  They  look  into  one  another's  eyes.  She 
takes  his  hand.]  I  sent  you  a  paper  this  evening. 

Lucy. 
It  was  very  good  of  you. 

[Carbery  comes  foricard  and  offers  his  arm. 


86  THE  EXPLORER 

Oarbery. 
I  thiuk  this  is  my  dance,  Miss  Allerton.     May  I 
take  you  in  ? 

Alec. 
Cnrbery  ?    I  saw  you  in  Piccadilly  just  now  !    You 
were  darting  about  just  like  a  young  gazelle.    1  had 
no  idea  you  could  be  so  active. 

Carbery. 
I  didn't  see  you. 

Alec. 
I  observed  that  you  were  deeply  interested  in  the 
shop  windows  as  I  passed.    How  are  you? 

[lie  holds  out  Ins  hand,  and  for  a  moment 
Carbery  hesitates  to  tahe  it.  Bnt  Alec's 
steady  yaze  comjyels  him. 

Carbery. 

How  d'you  do  ? 

Alec. 
[With  an  amused  smile.]  So  glad  to  see  you  again, 
old  man. 

[Dick  gives  an  audible  chuclcle^  and  Carbery, 
reddenimj^  draivs  his  hand  awaj/  anijrihj. 
lie  (joes  to  Lucy  and  offers  his  arm. 

Boulger. 
[To  Mrs.  Crowley.]  Shall  1  take  you  back? 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
1)0 ! 


THE  EXPLORER  87 

Lady   Kelsey. 
Won't  you  come,  Mr.  ]\f ackonzie  ? 

Alec. 

If  you  don't  mind  I'll  stay  and  smoke  just  ono 
cigarette  with  Dick  Lomas.  You  know  I'm  not  a 
dancing  man. 

Lady  Kelsey." 


Very  well 


\^^ill  (JO  out  except  Alec  and  Dick, 


Dick. 

I  suppose  you  know  we  were  all  beseeching 
Providence  you'd  have  the  grace  to  stay  away 
to-night  ? 

Alec. 

[  With  a  smile. ]^  I  suspected  it,  I  confess.  I  shouldn't 
have  come  only  I  wanted  to  see  Lucy.  I've  been  in 
in  the  country  all  day,  and  I  knew  nothing  about 
Macinnery's  letter  till  I  saw  the  placards  at  the 
station . 

Dick. 

Macinnery  proposes  to  make  things  rather  uncom- 
fortable, I  imagine. 

Alec. 

[With  a  smile.^  I  made  a  mistake,  didn't  I?  I 
ought  to  have  dropped  him  in  the  river  when  i  had 
no  further  use  for  him. 

Dick. 

What  are  you  going  to  do '( 


88  THE  EXPLORER 

Alkc. 

It's  nob  easy  to  clear  myself  at  a  dead  man's 
expense.  The  earth  covers  his  crime  and  his  sins 
and  his  weakness. 

I)|(   K. 

I) you  Diean  to  say  that  you  are  going  to  sit  still 
and  let  them  throw  mud  at  you '( 

Alec. 

When  George  was  dead  I  wrote  to  Lucy  that  he 
died  like  a  brave  man.  I  can't  now  publish  to  the 
whole  world  that  he  was  a  coward  and  a  rogue.  I 
can't  rake  up  again  the  story  of  her  father's  crime. 

Dick. 
[Impatient!)/.]  Surely,  that's  absolutely  quixotic. 

Alec. 

No,  it  isn't.  I  tell  you  I  can't  do  anything  else. 
I'm  bound  hand  and  foot.  Lucy  has  talked  to  me  of 
(leorge's  death,  and  the  only  thing  that  has  con.soled 
her  is  the  idea  that  in  a  manner  he  had  redeemed  his 
father's  good  name.  How  can  I  rob  her  of  that? 
She  placed  all  her  hopes  in  Cleorge.  How  could  ehe 
face^the  world  with  the  knowledge  that  her  brother 
was  rotten  to  the  core,  as  rotten  as  her  father. 

Dick. 
It  seems  awfully  hard. 

A  LEG. 

Besides,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  the  bov  did  die 


THE  EXPLORER  89 

game.  Don't  you  think  that  shouhl  count  for  some- 
thing? No,  I  tell  you  I  can't  give  him  away  now.  I 
should  never  cease  to  reproach  myself.  I  love  Lucy 
far  too  much  to  cause  her  such  bitter  pain. 

Dick. 
And  if  it  loses  you  her  love? 

Alec. 
I  think  she  can  do  without  love  better  than  without 
self-respect. 

[Ltxt  comes  in  inth  Mrs.  Chowlfa'. 

Lucy. 
I've  sent  my  partner  away.     I  felt  I  must  have  a 
few  words  alone  with  you. 

Dick. 
Shall  I  take  Mrs.  Crowley  into  a  retired  corner  ? 

Lucy. 

No,  we  have  nothing  to  say  that  you  can't  hear. 
You  and  Nellie  know  that  we're  engaged  to  1)0  married. 
'[To  Alec]  I  want  you  to  dance  with  me. 

Alec. 
It's  very  good  of  you. 

MllS.   CllOWLEY. 

Don't  you  think  that's  rather  foolish,  Lucy  ? 

Lucy. 

[To  Alec]  I  want  to  show  them  all  that  I  don't 
believe  that  you're  guilty  of  an  odious  crime. 


go  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
They've  sakl  hoirible  things  iibout  me ? 

Licv. 

Not  to  me.  They  wanted  to  hide  it  from  me,  but  I 
knew  they  were  talking. 

Alec. 
You'll  grow  used  to  hearing  shameful  things  said  of 
me.     I  suppose  I  shall  grow  used  to  it,  too. 

Lucy. 
Oh,  I  hate  them. 

Alec. 

Ah,  it's  not  that  I  mind.  What  torments  me  is 
that  it  was  so  easy  to  despise  their  praise,  and  now  I 
can't  despise  their  blame. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[Sniifiuf/.]  I  believe  you  have  some  glimmerings  of 
human  nature  in  you  after  all. 

Lucy. 
When  you  came  to-night,  so  calm  and  self-possessed, 
J  admired  you  as  I'd  never  admire<l  you  before. 

A  I.KC. 

I  t's  ea.sy  enougii  to  command  one's  face.  I  learnt 
to  do  that  in  Africa  when  often  my  life  dcpcMided  on 
my  seeming  to  liuve  no  fear.  ]5ut  in  my  heart  .  .  . 
I  never  knew  that  J  could  feel  so  bittei-.  And  yet. 
after  .all,  it's  only  your  good  opinion  that   I  care  for. 


THE  EXPLORER  91 

Lucy, 

I've  trusted  you  implicitly  from  tlio  first  clay  I 
saw  you. 

Alec. 

Thank  Clod  for  that !  To-day  is  the  first  time  I've 
wanted  to  be  assured  that  I  was  trusted.  And  yet 
I'm  ashamed  to  want  it. 

Lucy. 

Ah,  don't  be  too  hard  upon  yourself.  You're  so 
afraid  of  letting  your  tenderness  appear. 

Alec. 
The  only  way  to  be  strong  is  never  to  surrender 
to  one's  weakness.  Strength  is  merely  a  habit  like 
everything  else.  I  want  you  to  be  strong,  too. 
I  want  you  never  to  doubt  me  whatever  you  may 
hear  said. 

Lucy. 

I  gave  my  brother  into  your  hands,  and  told  you 
that  if  he  died  a  brave  man's  death  I  could  ask  for 
no  more. 

Alec. 

I  should  tell  you  that  I've  made  up  my  mind  to 
make  no  answer  to  the  charges  that  are  made 
against  me. 

[There  is  a  very  short  2^fi'Use,  while  he  looks  at  her 
steadily. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
But  why  '< 


92  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 

[To  LrcY.]  ]  can  give  you  iny  word  of  honour 
tliat  I've  (lone  notliing  which  1  regret.  1  know  that 
what  I  dill  was  right  with  regard  to  CJeorge,  and  if  it 
were  all  to  come  again  I  would  do  exactly  as  1  did 
before. 

LlT'Y. 

I  think  I  can  trust  you. 

Alec. 

I  thought  of  you  always,  and  everything  I  did  was 
for  your  sake.  Every  single  act  of  mine  during  these 
four  years  in  Africa  has  been  done  because  J  loved  you. 

Lucy. 

You  must  love  me  always,  Alec,  for  now  I  have 
only  you.   [He  bends  dovn  and  hisses  her  hand."]  Come  ! 

[lie  gives  Iter  his  arm  and  ihej/  iiiallc  out. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
1  feel  as  if  I  should  rather  like  to  cry. 

Dick. 
Do  you  really  ?     So  do  I. 

j\Ihs.  Ckowlky. 

Don't  be  so  silly. 

Dick. 

\\y  the  way,  you  don't  want  to  dance  with  me, 
do  you  V 


THE  EXPLORER  93 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Certainly  not.     You  dance  abominably. 

Dick. 

It's  charming  of  you  to  say  so.     It  puts  me  at  my 
ease  at  once. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Come  and  sit  on  the  sofa  and  talk  seriously. 

Dick. 
Ah,  you  want  to  flirt  with  me,  Mrs.  Crowley. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Crood    heavens,  what  on   earth   makes  you  think 
that  ? 

Dick. 
It's  what  a  woman  always  means  when  she  asks 
you  to  talk  sensibly. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I  can't  bear  a  man  who  thinks  women  are  in  love 
with  him. 

Dick. 
151ess  you,  I  don't  think  that.     I  only  think  they 
want  to  marry  me. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
That's  equally  detestable. 

Dick. 
Not   at   all.     However   old,    ugly,   and    generally 


94  THE  EXPLORER 

undesirable  a  man  is,  hull  find  a  heap  of  chaimin;^ 
girls  who  are  willing  to  marry  him.  Marriage  is 
still  the  only  decent  means  of  livelihood  for  a  really 
nice  girl. 

ISIrs.  Crowley. 

But,  my  dear  friend,  if  a  woman  really  makes  up 
her  mind  to  marry  a  man,  nothing  on  earth  can 
save  him. 

Dick, 

Don't  say  that,  you  terrify  me. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Vou   need   not    be    in   the  least  alarmed,   because 
I  shall  refuse  you. 

Dick. 
Thanks,  awfully.     But  all  the  same  I  don't  think 
I'll  risk  a  proposal. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
j\Iy  dear  Mr.  Lomas,  your  only  safety  is  in  imme- 
diate flight. 

Dick. 
Why? 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
It  must  be  ol»vious  to  the  meanest  intelligence  that 
you've  been  on  the  verge  of  proposing  to  me  for  the 
last  month. 

Dick. 
Oh,  1  assure  you,  you're  quite  mistaken. 


THE  EXPLORER  95 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Then    I    shan't   come  to   the    pluy    with   you   to- 
morrow ? 

Dick. 

But   I've   taken   the   seats,  and    I've   ordered  an 
exquisite  dinner  at  the  Carlton. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
What  have  you  ordered  ? 

Dick. 
Pota-e    r.isque  .   .   •      ['VAc    makes   a   little  face. 
Sole    Norniande  .-  .   .      [She   shrwjs    her    shoulders. 
AVild  Duck. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
AVith  an  orange  salad  ^ 

Dick. 

Yes. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I  don't  positively  dislike  that. 

Dick. 
And  I've  ordered  a  souffle  with  an  ice  in  the  middle 
of  it. 

Mrs.  Crow^ley. 

I  shan't  come. 

Dick. 
I  shouldn't  have  thought  you  kept  very  well  abreast 


96  THE  EXPLORER 

of  dramatic  ait  if  you  insist  on  marrying  every  man 
who  takes  you  to  a  theatre. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[Demureh/.]  I  was  very  nicely  brought  up. 

Dick. 

Of  course,  if  you're  going  to  make  yourself  systema- 
tically disagreeable  unless  I  marry  you,  I  suppose 
I  shall  have  to  do  it  in  self-defence. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I  don't  know  if  you  have  the  least  idea  what  you're 
talking  about.     I'm  sure  I  haven't ! 

Dick. 

I  was  merely  asking  you  in  a  rather  well-turned 
phrase  to  name  the  day.  The  lamb  shall  be  ready 
for  the  slaughter  ! 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Couldn't  you  infuse  a  little  romance  into  it  i  You 
might  begin  by  going  down  on  your  bended  knees. 

Dick. 

1  assure  you  that's  quite  out  of  fashion.  Lovers, 
nowadays,  are  much  too  middle-aged,  and  their  joints 
are  creaky.     Besides,  it  ruins  the  trousers. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

At  all  events,  there  can  be  no  excuse  for  your  not 
baying  that  you  know  )  ou're  utterly  unworthy  of  me. 


THE  EXPLORER  97 

Dick. 
Wild  horses  woiikln't  induce  me  to  make  a  state- 
ment which  is  so  remote  from  the  truth. 

Mrs.  CiiowLEY. 
And,   of   course,    you    must    threaten   to   commit 
suicide  if  I  don't  consent. 

Dick. 
Women  are  such  sticklers  for  routine.     They  have 
no  originality. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Very  well,   have  it  your  own  way.     But   I   must 
have  a  proposal  in  due  form. 

Dick. 
Only  four  words  are  needed.     [Counting  them  on 
his  fingers.']  Will  you  marry  me  ? 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
That  is  both  clear  and  simple.    I  reply  in  one  :  No  ! 

Dick. 

[As   though   he   were   not   sure   that   he  had  heard 
correctly.]  I  beg  your  pardon  ? 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
The  answer  is  in  the  negative. 

Dick. 

You're  joking.     You're  certainly  joking. 


98  THE  EXPLORER 

Mrs.  Chow  ley. 
T  will  be  a  sister  to  you. 

Dick. 
Do  you  mean  to  say  you  deliberately  refuse  me? 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[Smiling.]  I  promised  you  I  would. 

Dick. 

[With  much  seriousness.']  I  thank  you  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

[Puzzled^  The  man's  mad.  The  man's  nothing 
short  of  a  raving  lunatic. 

]:HC'K. 

I  wanted  to  see  if  you  were  really  attached  to  me. 
You  have  given  me  a  proof  of  esteem  which  I  inonu.se 
you  I  will  never  forget. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[Laughing.]  You're  a  perfect  idiot,  Mr.  Lomas  ! 

Dick. 

It's  one  of  my  cherished  convictions  that  a  really 
nice  woman  is  never  so  cruel  as  to  marry  a  man  she 
cares  for. 

Mrs.  Crowley, 

You're  much  too  flippant  to  many  anybody,  and 
you're  perfectly  odious  into  the  bai-gain. 


THE  EXPLORER  99 

[She  goes  out.  Dick,  chucklmcj,  lights  a  cigarette. 
Alec  comes  in  and  lies  dovn  lazily  on  the 
sofa. 

Alec. 

Why,  J)ick,  what's  tlie  matter?  You  look  as 
pleased  as  Punch. 

My  dear  fellow,  I  feel  like  the  Terrible  Turk.  I've 
been  wrestling,  and  I  thought  I  was  going  to  have  a 
fall.  ]>ut  by  the  display  of  considerable  agility  1  Vo 
managed  to  keep  my  legs. 

Alec. 
What  do  you  mean  ? 

Dick. 

Nothing.     It's  merely  the  gaiety  of  forty-two. 

[BouLGER  comes  into  the  room,  JoUoiced  imme- 
diately by  Mallixs  and  Carbery.  He 
starts  slightly  when  he  sees  Alec,  hit  then 
goes  over  to  the  table  on  which  is  the 
whiskey. 

Mallins. 
May  we  smoke  here,  Bobby  ? 

BOULGER. 

Certainly.  Dick  insisted  that  this  room  should  be 
particularly  reserved  for  that  purpose. 

[  The  ]^UTLER  comes  in  loith  a  small  silver  salver, 
and  takes  vj)  one  or  two  dirty  glasses. 


-100  THE  EXPLORER 

Dick. 

Ti[\(ly  Kclsoy  is  the  most,  admir.iblo  of  all  lioste.^^es. 

[I'akituj  a  ci(/arette  Jroin  his  case.]  (Jive  me  a  match, 
T^obby,  there's  a  good  boy.  [Boulger,  icith  his  hack 
turned  to  Alec,  takes  no  notice,  lie  pours  himself 
out  some  loh iskey.  Alec  smiles  slightly.]  I5obl  »y ,  t  hro w 
me  over  the  matches  ! 

BorLGER. 
[With  his  hack  still  turned.]  Miller! 

Butler. 
Yes,  sir  ? 

BOULGER. 

Mr.  Mackenzie  is  asking  for  something. 

Butler. 
Yes,  sir  ! 

Alec. 
You  might  give  me  a  light,  will  yon  ( 

Butler. 
Yes,  sir! 

[The  Butler  takes  the  matches  to  Alec,  who 
liylits  his  cigarette. 

Alec. 

Thank  you.  [Complete  silence  is  preserved  till  the 
\\vv\.VM  leaves  the   room.\     J    perceive,    Bobbie,    that 


THE  EXPLORFAi  loi 

cUiring  my  iibseiicc  you  have  not  adtlutl  good  nianner.s 
to  your  other  accompli-shments. 

JiOULGEll. 

If  you  want  things,  you  can  ask  the  servants  for 
them. 

Alec. 

[Good-hiunoicredli/.]  Don't  be  foolish,  liobbie  ! 

BoULCiER. 

Would  you  be  so  kind  as  to  remember  tliat  my 
name  is  Boulger  ? 

Alec. 
[Smiling.]  Perhaps  you  would  like  me  to  call  you 
Sir  Robert  ? 

Boulger. 
I  should  prefer  that  you  would  call  me  nothing  at 
all.     I  have  absolutely  no  wish  to  know  you. 

Alec. 
Which  shows  that  your  taste  is  as  bad   as  your 
breeding. 

Boulger. 

[Angrily,  walking  up  to  hinu]    ]^y  God,  I'll  knock 
you  down  ! 

Alec. 

You  could  hardly  do  that  when  I'm  already  lying 
on  my  back. 

Boulger. 

Look   here,  iMackenzie,  I'm  not  going  to  let  you 
play  the  fool  with  me.     I  want  to  know  what  answer 


102  THE  EXPLORER 

you  liavc  to  make  to  all  these  cliar^a's  that  have  been 
brou«,'lit  against  you. 

Alkc. 
Might  1  suggest  that  only  Miss  AUerton  has  the 
least  right  to  receive  answers  to  her  questions  i    And 
she  hnsn't  questioned  me. 

HOULGER. 

I've  given  up  trying  to  understand  her  attitude. 
If  I  were  she,  it  would  nmke  me  sick  with  horror  to 
look  at  you.  Since  this  morning  you've  rested  under 
a  direct  accusation  of  causing  George's  death,  and 
you've  said  nothing  in  self-defence. 

Alec. 
Nothing. 

JJOULCEU. 

You've  been  given  an  opportunity  to  explain  your- 
self, and  you  haven't  taken  it. 

Alec. 
Quite  true. 

.  Boulger. 

Are  you  not  going  to  deny  the  charge  i 

Alec. 
I'm  not. 

IJOULGER. 

Then  I  can  oidy  draw  one  conclusion.  There 
appears  to  be  no  moans  of  bringing  you  to  justice, 
but  at  least  i  can  refuse  to  know  vou. 


THE  EXPLORER  103 

xVlec. 
All  is  over  between  us.     And  shall  1  return  your 
letters  and  your  photograph  ? 

BOULGER. 

I'm  not  joking. 

Alec. 

It's  singular  that  though  I'm  Scotch  and  you  are 
English  I  should  be  able  to  see  how  ridiculous  you 
are,  while  you're  quite  blind  to  your  own  absurdity. 

Dick. 
Come,  Alec  !     Remember  he's  only  a  boy. 

BoULGER. 

[To  Dick  Lomas.]  I'm  perfectly  able  to  look  after 
myself,  and  I'll  thank  you  not  to  interfere.  [To  Alec] 
If  Lucy's  so  indifferent  to  her  brother's  death  that 
she's  willing  to  keep  up  with  you,  that's  her  own 
affair  .  .  . 

Dick. 

[Interrupting.']  Come,  Bobbie,  don't  make  a  scene. 

BoULGER. 

[Furiously.']  Leave  me  alone,  confound  you  ! 

Alec. 
Do  you  think  this  is  quite  the  place  for  an  alterca- 
tion I     Wouldn't   you   gain    more   notoriety   if    you 
attacked    me   in   my    club   or   at   Church  parade  on 
Sunday  i 


104  T^^iE  EXPLORER 

lioui.(!i:K. 
lis  mere  shameless  impudence  that  you  >huul(l 
come  here  to-night.  You're  using  these  wretched 
women  as  a  shield,  because  you  know  that  as  long  as 
Lucy  sticks  to  you  there  are  people  who  won't  believe 
the  story. 

Alec. 

I  came  for  the  same  reason  as  yourself,  dear  boy. 
Because  I  was  invited. 

Dick. 
Now  then,  Bobbie,  shut  up  ! 

BOULGER. 

I  shan't  shut  up.  The  man's  got  no  right  to  force 
himself  here. 

Dick. 

Remember  that  you're  Lady  Kelsey's  nephew. 

BoULGER. 

I  didn't  ask  him.  D'you  think  I'd  have  come  if  I 
knew  he  was  going  to  be  here  ?  He's  acknowledged 
that  he  has  no  defence. 

Alec. 

Pardon  me,  I  acknowledge  nothing  and  deny 
nothing. 

BoULGER. 

That  won't  do  for  me.  I  want  the  truth,  and  I'm 
going  to  get  it.     I've  got  a  right  to  know. 

Alec. 

[/Jetjinniiu/  to  lose  his  temper,\  Don't  make  an  ass 
of  yourself,  Bobby. 


THE  EXPLORER  105 

JJuULtiEit. 
Ry  (SolI,  ill  make  you  answer ! 

\_As  he  says  this  he  goes  vp  to  x\].kc  furioush/, 
but  Alec,  iviih  a  twist  of  his  arm,  hurls 
him  back. 

Alec. 
I  could  break  your  back,  you  .silly  boy. 

[]Vith  a  cry  of  anger  15oulger  is  about  to  s^n-ing 
at  Alec  when  Dick  gets  in  the  way. 

Dick. 
Now   then,    no   scenes.     And   you'll  only  get  the 
worst  of  it,  Bobby.     Alec  could  just  crumple  you  up. 
Take  him  away,  Mallins.     Don't  stand  there  like  a 
stuffed  owl,  Carbery, 

BOULGEII. 

Let  me  alone,  you  fool ! 

Mallins. 
Come  along,  old  chap. 

BOULGEII. 

[2^0  Alec]  You  damned  skunk! 

Dick. 

Now  then,  be  off  with  you.     Don't  make  a  silly  ass 
of  yourself. 

[BouLCiEit,  Mallins  and  Carbeuy  go  out. 

Dick. 
Poor  Lady  Kelsey  !    To-morrow  half  London  will 


io6  THE  EXPLORER 

1)6  saying  tliat  you  and  Bohhy  had  a  stand-up  figlit 
ill  her  drawing-room. 

Alec. 

[Fur'wuslij.^  The  damned  cubs ! 

Dick. 

The  position  is  growing  confoundedly  awkward  ! 

Alec, 
They  lick  my  boots  till  1  loathe  them,  and  then  they 
turn  against  me  like  a  pack  of  curs.  Oh,  I  despise 
them — these  silly  boys  who  stay  at  home  wallowing  in 
their  ease  while  men  work.  Thank  God,  I've  done 
with  them  all  now.  They  think  one  can  tight  one's 
way  through  Africa  as  easily  as  one  walks  down 
Piccadilly.  They  think  one  goes  through  hardships 
and  dangers,  illness  and  starvation,  to  be  the  lion  of  a 
dinner-party  in  Mayfair. 

Dick. 
My  dear  Alec,  keep  calm. 

Alec. 

[With  a  visible  effort  containi)uj  himself  com  pi  eteh/^ 
vnth  studied  nonchalance.]  D'you  think  that  I  look 
wildly  excited  ? 

Dick. 

[Ironicalhj.']  1  tlon't  thinlc  butter  would  melt  in 
your  mouth. 

[Dick  and  Alec  yo  out  into  the  (jarden.  In  a 
moment  Houlgeh  comes  in  villi  IjAdy 
Kelsey. 


THE  EXPLORER  107 

Thank  heiiven,  there's  nobody  here. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
I   think   you're   dreadfully   foolish,    Bobby.     You 
know  how   Lucy  resents  any  interference  with  her 
actions. 

BOULGEII. 

Won't  you   sit  down?     You   must    be   dreadfully 
tired. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Why  won't  you  wait  till  to-morrow  ? 

BOULGER. 

I  feel  that  it  ought  to  be  settled  at  once. 

[Lucy  appears. 
Lucy. 
Did  you  send  for  me,  my  aunt  <     Mr.  Carbery  said 
you  wanted  to  speak  to  me  here. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Yes,  I  gave  him  that  message. 

BOULGEII. 

I  asked  Aunt  Alice  to  beg  you  to  come  here.    I  was 
afraid  you  wouldn't  if  I  asked  you. 

Lucy. 
\LujhtJy.\  WHiat  nonsense  !     I'm  always  delighted 
to  see  you. 


lo8  THE  EXPLORER 

15()i;l(:j:k. 

I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  soinetliin^,  and 
J  tlioui^'lit  Aunt  Alice  should  be  present. 

Lucv. 
Is  it  so  important  that  it  can't  wait  till  to-morrow  ? 

BuULGEK. 

I  venture  to  think  it's  very  important. 

Lucy. 

[^Smiliny.]  I'm  all  attention. 

[//e  hesitates  for  a  moinent,  then  braces  h'wiselj 
to  the  ordeal. 

BOULGER. 

I've  told  you  often,  Lucy,  that  I've  been  in  love 
with  you  for  as  many  years  as  I  can  remember. 

Lucy. 

Surely  you've  not  snatched  me  from  the  unwilling' 
arm  of  my  partner  in  order  to  make  me  a  proposal  of 
marriage !? 

BOULGEII. 

Im  perfectly  serious,  Lucy. 

Lucy. 
[Smiling.]  1  assure  you  it  doesn't  suit  you  at  all. 

liuri.(iEU. 

The  other  day  I  asked  you  again  to  marry  mo,  just 
before  Alec  Mackenzie  came  back. 


THE  EXPLORER  109 

Lucy. 

It  was  voiy  charming  of  you.  You  mustn't  think 
that  because  I  laugh  at  you  a  little  I'm  not  grateful 
for  your  affection. 

BOULGER. 

Except  for  that  letter  in  this  morning's  Times,  I 
should  never  have  dared  to  say  anything  to  you  again. 
But  that  changes  everything. 

Lucy. 
I  don't  understand  what  you  mean. 

BoULGER. 

[^After  a  little  pause.']  I  ask  you  again  if  you'll 
be  my  wife?  When  Alec  Mackenzie  came  back  I 
understood  why  you  were  so  indifferent  to  me,  but 
you  can't  marry  him  now. 

Lucy. 
You  have  no  right  to  talk  to  me  like  this. 

BoULGER. 

I'm  the  only  man  who's  related  to  you  at  all,  and  I 
love  you  with  my  w^iole  soul. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
I   think   you   should    listen   to   him,    Lucy.     I'm 
growing  old,  and  soon  you'll   be  quite  alone  in  the 
world. 


no  THE  EXPLORER 

BOULGEII. 

J  don't  ask  yon  to  care  for  mc.  T  only  want  to 
serve  yon. 

I  can  only  repeat  that  I'm  very  gratefnl  to  yon.  I 
can  never  marry  yon. 

EoULGEll. 

[Beginning  to  lose  his  tempei'  again.]  Are  you  going 
to  continue  to  know  Mackenzie?  If  yon'll  take  the 
advice  of  any  unprejudiced  person  about  that  letter, 
you'll  ilnd  that  he'll  say  the  same  as  I.  There  can  be 
no  shadow  of  doubt  that  Mackenzie  is  guilty  of  a 
monstrous  crime. 

Lucy. 

T  don't  care  what  the  evidence  is.  I  know  he  can't 
have  done  a  shameful  thing. 

BOULGER. 

But  have  you  forgotten  that  it's  your  own  brother 
he  killed  ?  The  whole  country  is  up  in  arms  against 
him,  and  you  are  quite  indillerent. 

Lucy. 

[}f}i.rh  moved.]  Oh,  Bobbie,  how  can  yon  be  so 
cruel  i 

BOULQER. 

If  you  ever  really  cared  for  Cleorge  at  all,  you  must 
wish  to  punish  the  man  who  caused  his  deatli. 


THE  EXPLORER 


III 


Lucy. 
Oh.wl.yd'you   torment  me?     I  tell  you  tbat  he 
isn't  guilty.    It's  because  I'm  convinced  ot  that  .  .  . 

BOULCEIl. 

[Interrupting.]  But  have  you  asked  him  ? 
Lucy. 

No. 

BOULGER. 

He  might  give  you  the  truth. 

Lucy. 
I  couldn't  do  that. 

BoULGER. 

Why  not  ? 

Lady  Kelsey. 
It's  very   strange   that   he   should    insist  on  this 
silence. 

Lucy. 

Do  you  believe  that  story  too  i 

Lady  Kelsey. 
I    don't   kno^Y    what   to   believe       It's  ^o   e^^ 
ordinary.     If   the   man's   innocent,   why  doe.n  t   he 
speak  ? 

Lucy. 
He  knows  I  trust  him.     I  couldn't  cause  him  the 
great  pain  of  asking  him  questions. 


112  THE  FXPLORER 

Are  you  afraid  he  couldn't  answer  them? 

LlCY. 

No,  no,  no ! 

150ULGER. 

Well,  just  try.  After  all,  you  owe  as  much  as  that 
to  the  memory  of  George. 

Lady  K  el  set. 

I  think  it's  very  unreasonable,  Lucy.  He  knows 
we're  his  friends.     He  can  count  on  our  discretion. 

Lucy. 

I  believe  in  him  implicitly.  I  believe  in  him  with 
all  the  strength  I've  got. 

BOULOER. 

Then,  surely  it  can  make  no  diflerence  if  you  ask 
him.  There  can  be  no  reason  for  him  not  to  trust 
you. 

Lucy. 

Oh,  why  don't  you  leave  me  alone  ? 

]>oulc;er. 

Ask  him  point  blank.  If  he  refuses  to  answer 
you  .  .  . 

Lucy. 

[Ilastili/.]  It  would  mean  nothing.  Why  should 
he  answer?  I  believe  in  him  absolutely.  I  think 
he's  the  greatest  and  most  honourable  man  I've  ever 


THE  EXPLORER  113 

known.  I  care  more  for  liis  little  finger  than  for  the 
whole  world.  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart.  And 
that's  why  he  can't  be  guilty  of  this  horrible  crime. 
Because  I've  loved  him  for  years,  and  he's  known  it. 
And  he  loves  me.     And  he's  loved  me  always. 

[Aleo  and  Dick  stroll  in  from  the  garden. 

Lucy. 
Alec,  Alec,  I  want  you  !     Thank  God,  you've  come  ! 

Alec. 
\Going  to  her  quickly.']  What  is  it  ? 

Lucy. 
Alec,  you  must  tell  them  now  about  you  and  me. 

[Alec  looks  at  Lucy  for  a  ttooDieut,  and  then 
turns  to  Lady  Kelsey. 

Alec. 

I  think  perhaps  we  ought  to  have  told  you  before, 
Lady  Kelsey.  But  we  wanted  to  enjoy  our  little 
secret  by  ourselves. 

Lady  Kelsey. 

I'm  afraid  to  understand. 

Alec. 
I  have  asked  Lucy  to  be  my  wife,  and  she  .... 

Lucy. 

[Interrupting  hirii.\  She  said  she  would  1)0  honoured 
and  deeply  grateful, 

H 


114  ^^^^  EXPLORER 

LxVDY  Kelsi:v. 
[Greatly    emharradml.]    1     liaidly    know   what    to 
say  .  .  .     How  long  have  you  been  engageel  < 

Lucy. 
AVon't  you  tell  me  you're  pleased,   my  aunt  ^     T 
know  you  want  me  to  be  happy. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Of  course,  I  want  you  to  be  happy.     But  I — I  .   .   . 
[BouLGER  turns  on  his  heel  and  ical/cs  out. 

Lick. 

[Offer hKj  his  arm  to  Lady  Kelsey.]  Wouldn't  you 
like  to  go  back  to  the  drawing-room  ? 

[She  allows  h^erself  to  he  led  awaij^  htljilesshj. 
Alec  and  Lucy  are  left  alone. 

Alec. 
[With  a  smile.]  I   don't  think   our  announcement 
has  been  received  with  enthusiasm. 

Lucy. 
You're  not  angry  with  me,  Alec  i 

Alec. 
Of  course  not.     Everything  }ou  do  is  right  and 
charming. 

Lucy. 

1  shall  really  think    I'm  a  wonderful  person  if  I've 
taught  you  to  pay  compliments. 


THE  EXPLORER  115 

Alec. 
I'm  so  glad   to  be  alone  with   you.     Now,  at  all 
events,  people   will  have  the   sense  to  leave  us   by 
ourselves. 

Lucy. 
\ Passionately.']  I  want  your  love.      1   want  your 
love  so  badly. 

Alec. 

{Taking  her  in  his  arms.]  My  darling  ! 

Lucy. 
\CUncjing   to   him.]    The    moment    I'm    with    you 
I  feel  so  confident  and  happy. 

Alec. 
Only  when  you're  with  me  ?     [Lucy  looks  at  him 
for  an  instant.     He  repeats  the  question  in  a  caressing 
voice.]  Only  when  you're  with  me,  darling  ? 

Lucy. 
Why  d'you  think  I  made  you  tell  them  we  were 
engaged  ? 

Alec. 

You  took  me  by  surprise. 

Lucy. 
I  had  to  tell  them.     I  couldn't  keep  it  back.    The\' 
made  me  suffer  so  dreadfully. 

Alec. 
The  brutes  !     Tell  me  what  thev  did. 


ii6  THE  EXPLORER 

Lucy. 

Oh,  they  said  horrible  things  about  you. 

Alec. 
No  more  than  that  ? 

Lucy. 

It's  nothing  to  you.  ]5ut  to  mc  .  .  .  Oh,  you 
don't  know  what  agony  I  endure.  I'm  such  a 
coward  !     I  thought  I  was  so  much  braver. 

Alec. 

I  don't  understand  you. 

Lucy. 

1  wanted  to  burn  my  ships  behind  me.  I  wanted 
to  reassure  myself.  [Alec  makes  a  slight  inovenient 
av.'cuj  from  hei\  hut  she  holds  him  back  anxioushj.^ 
Forgive  me,  dear.  You  don't  know  how  terrible  it  is. 
1  stand  so  dreadfully  alone.  Every  one  is  convinced 
that  you  caused  poor  George's  death — every  one 
but  me.  [Alec  looks  at  her  (jravehj,  without  sj>eaking.] 
I  try  to  put  the  thoughts  out  of  my  head,  but  1  can't 
— I  can't.  That  letter  in  the  Times  looks  so  dread- 
fully true.  ]3on't  you  see  what  I  mean  !?  The  un- 
certainty is  more  than  I  can  bear.  At  the  first 
moment  I  felt  so  absolutely  sure  of  you. 

Alec. 
And  now  you  don't '^ 

liUCY. 

I    trust  you  just  as  much   as  ever,     i  know   it's 


THE  EXPLORER  n? 

impossible  that  you  should  have  done  a  shainolul 
thing.  But  there  it  stands  in  black  and  white,  and 
you  have  notliing  to  say  in  answer. 

Al.KC. 

I  know  it's  very  difficult.  That  is  why  I  asked  you 
to  believe  in  me. 

Lucy. 

I  do,  Alec — with  all  my  soul.  But  have  mercy  on 
me.  I'm  not  so  strong  as  I  thought.  It's  easy  for 
you  to  stand  alone.  You're  iron,  but  I'm  a  weak 
woman . 

Alec. 

Oh,  no,  you're  not  like  other  women.  I  w\as  proud 
of  your  unconquerable  spirit. 

Lucy. 
It  was  easy  to  be  brave  where  my  father  was  con- 
cerned, and  George,  but  you're  the  man  I  love,  and 
it's   so   different.    I  don't    know  any  more   how   to 
stand  alone. 

[Alec  looks  at  her,  thinking,  hut  does  not  reply 
for  a  moment. 

Alec. 
Do  you  remember  that  only  an  hour  ago  I  told  you 
that  I'd  done  nothing  which  I  wouldn't  do  again  ?     I 
gfbve  you  my  word  of  honour  that  I  could  reproach 
myself  for  nothing. 

Lucy. 

Oh,  I  know.  I'm  so  utterly  ashamed  of  myself. 
But  I  can't  bear  the  doubt. 


Ii8  THE  EXPLORER 

A  LKC. 
Doubt !      Vouve  .said  the  word  ;it  last. 

Lucy. 
I  tell  every  one  that  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  tlicse 
horrible  chaises,  and  3  repeat  to  myself:  I'm  certain, 
I'm  certain  that  he's  innocent.  And  yet  at  the 
bottom  of  my  heart  there's  a  doubt,  and  I  can't 
crush  it. 

Alec. 
Is  that  why  you  told  them  we  were  eu.iraged  to  be 
married  i 

Lucy. 
I  wanted  to  kill  that  gnawing  pain  of  suspicion.  I 
thought  if  I  stood  up  before  them  and  cried  out  that 
my  trust  in  you  was  so  great,  1  was  willing  to  marry 
you  notwithstanding  everything,  I  should  at  least 
have  peace  in  my  own  heai-t. 

[Alec  walks  tip  and  doion.     Then  he  stopft  in 
front  o/LiCY. 

Alec. 
What  is  it  precisely  you  want  me  to  do  ^. 

Lucy. 

I  want  you  to  have  mercy  on  me  because  I  love  yon. 
Don't  tell  the  world  if  you  choose  not  to,  but  tell  me 
the  truth.  I  know  you're  incapalde  of  lying.  If  J 
only  have  it  from  your  own  lips  J  shall  be]ie\e,  1 
w.nit  to  be  certain,  certain  ! 


THE  EXPLORER  119 

Alec. 

Don't  you  loalihe  that    I  woiikl  never  have  a>ked 

you  to  marry  nie  if  my  con.science  hadn't  been  quite 

clear  ?     Don't  you  realise  that  the  reasons  I  have  for 

holding  my  tongue  must  be  of  overwhelming  strength  ^ 

Lucy. 
But  I  am  going  to  l)e  your  wife,  and  I  love  you,  and 
you  love  me. 

xVlec. 
I   implore  you  not   to   insist,  Lucy.     Let   us   re- 
member only  that  the  past  is  gone  and  we  love  one 
another.     It's  impossible  for  me  to  tell  you  anything. 

Lucy. 
Oh,  but  you  must  now.     If  any  part  of  the  story  is 
true,  you  must  sfive  me  a  chance  of  judging  for  myself. 

Alec. 
I'm  very  sorry,  I  can't. 

Lucy. 

But  you'll  kill  my  love  for  you.  The  doubt  which 
lurked  at  the  bottom  of  my  soul  now  tills  me.  How 
can  you  let  me  sufter  such  maddening  torture '( 

Alec. 
I  thought  you  trusted  me. 

Lucy. 
I'll  be  satisfied  if  you'll  only  tell  me  one  thing : 
only  tell  me  that   when  you   sent   George   on   that 


120  THE  EXPLORER 

expedition  you  didn't  know  that  he'd  ho  killed.  [Alec 
looks  at  her  steadily.]  Only  say  t  hat,  Alec.  Say  that's 
not  true,  and  J '11  helieve  you. 

[Veri/  (jaietli/.\   Hut  it  i.s  true. 

[Lt'CY  does  not  answer,  hvt  sfaj-es  at  Idm  with 
fprrified  eyes. 

Lucy. 

Oh,  I  don't  understand.  Oh,  my  deare.st,  don't 
treat  me  as  a  child.  Have  mercy  on  me!  You  must 
be  serious  now.  It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death  to 
both  of  us. 

Alec. 

I'm  perfectly  serious. 

Lucy. 

You  knew  that  you  were  sendinsf  George  into  a 
death-trap  (     You  knew  he  couldn't  escape  ali\e  ( 

Alec. 
Except  by  a  miracle. 

Lucy. 
And  you  don't  believe  in  miracles '( 

Alec. 
No. 

Lucy. 

Oh,  it  can't  1)0  true.  Oh,  Aloe.  Aloe,  Aloe!  Oh. 
what  shall  1  do  ( 


THE  EXPLORER  121 

Alec. 
I  tell  you  that  whatever  I  tlid  was  inevitahle. 

Lucy. 
Then  if  that's  true,  the  rest  must  be  true  also.    Oh, 
it's  awful.     I  can't  realise  it.     Haven't  you  anything 
to  say  at  all  ? 

Alec. 

[In  a  low  voice.]  Only  that  I've  loved  you  always 
with  all  my  soul. 

Lucy. 

You  knew  how  much  I  loved  my  brother.  You 
knew  how  much  it  meant  to  me  that  he  should  live 
to  wipe  out  my  father's  dishonour.  All  the  future 
was  centred  on  him,  and  you  sacrificed  him. 

Alec. 
[Hesitatingly.']  I  think  I  might  tell  you  this.     He 
had  committed  a  grave  error  of  judgment.     We  were 
entrapped  by  the  Arabs,  and  our  only  chance  of  escape 
entailed  the  almost  certain  death  of  one  of  us. 

[An  inkling  of  the  truth  seizes  Lucy,  and  her 
face  is  suddenly  distorted  unth  horror.  She 
goes  up  to  him  impulsively.  Her  voice 
trembles  with  emotion. 

Lucy. 

Alec,  Alec,  he  didn't  do  something— unworthy  ? 
You're  not  trying  to  shield  him  ? 

Alec. 

[Hoarsely.]  No,  no,  no  ! 


122  THE  EXPLORER 

Li:CY. 

[H7M  a  (jdxp  of  reliej,  almost  to  Jterfirlf.]  TliiUik 
God!  J  couldn't  have  borne  that.  \To  Alec,  hope- 
lesslf/.]  'I'lien  I  don't  understand. 

Ali:c'. 

It  was  not  unjust  that  he  should  suffer  for  the 
eastastrophe  wliich  ho  had  brous^ht  about. 

Lucy. 

At  those  times  one  doesn't  think  of  justice.  He 
was  so  young,  so  frank.  Wouldn't  it  have  been 
nobler  to  give  your  life  for  his  ? 

Am:c. 

Oh,  my  dear,  you  don't  know  how  easy  it  is  to  give 
one's  life.  How  little  you  know  me  !  ]3o  you  think 
I  should  have  hesitated  if  my  death  had  been  sufficient 
to  solve  the  difficulty^  I  had  my  work  to  do.  I  was 
bound  by  solemn  treaties  to  the  surrounding  tribes. 
It  would  have  been  cowardly  for  me  to  die.  I  tell 
you,  my  death  would  have  meant  the  awful  death  of 
every  man  in  my  party. 

Lucy. 
I  cjxn   only  see  one  thing,  tiiat  you  took  George, 
George  of  all  others. 

Alec. 

J  knew  at  the  time  that  what  I  did  might  cost  me 
your  love,  and  thougli  you  won't  beliex  o  this.  I  did  it 
for  your  sake. 


THE  EXPLORER  123 

\At  this  moment  Mrs.  Crowley  enters  vnth 
Sir  RoiJEKT  Hoilgeh.    *She has  a  cloak  on. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I  was  just  coming  to  say  good-night.     Bobby  is 
going  to  drive  me  home.    [She  suddenly  notices  Lucy's 
agitation.]  What  on  earth's  the  matter? 

[Lady  Kklsey  and  Dick  Lomas  come  in.  Lady 
Kelsey  looks  at  Lucy  and  tJien  goes  iq)  to 
her  impulsively. 

Lady  Kelsey. 
Lucy,  Lucy  ! 

Lucy. 
[Brokenly.]      I'm     no     longer     engaged     to     Mr. 
Mackenzie.     He  can't  deny  that  what  is  said  about 
liim  is  true. 

[They  look  at  him  in  astonishment^  hut  lie  maizes 
no  movement. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

[To  Alec]    Haven't  you  anything  to  say  at  all  ? 
You  must  have  some  explanation  to  offer  ? 

Alec. 
No,  I  have  none  whatever. 

Dick. 
Alec,  old    man,   have   you    realised    all    that    this 
means  'i 


124  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
Quite.     I  see  now  that  it  was  inevitable. 

Lucy. 

\^\Vitha  S7ul(len  burst  of  furious  tmyer.]  You  killed 
him  !  Vou  killed  him  as  surely  as  if  you'd  strangled 
him  with  your  own  hands. 

[Robert  Boulger  goes  to  the  door  and  flings 
it  open.  Alec  gives  Lucy  a  look,  then 
slightly  shrugs  his  shoulders.  He  walks 
out  without  a  icord.  The  moment  he  has 
gone  Lucy  sinks  down  and.  bursts  into 
passionate  tears. 


END    OF   THE    THIRD   ACT. 


THE   FOURTH  ACT 

Scene. — A  libra?'//  in  the  house   of  Dick  Lomas  in 
Portmcm  Square. 

Dick  and  his  Valet.     Dick  is  jmUiiuj  jlowers  into 
a  vase. 

Dick. 
Has  Mr.  Mackenzie  come  in  ^ 

Charles. 
Yes,  sir.     He's  gone  to  his  room. 

Dick. 

I  expect  Mrs.  Crowley  and  Miss  Allerton  to  tea. 
If  any  one  else  comes  I'm  not  at  home. 

Charles. 
Very  well,  sir. 

Dick. 

And  if  a  caller  should  ask  at  what  time  I'm  ex- 
pected back,  you  havftn't  the  least  idea. 

Charles. 
Very  well,  sir. 

125 


126  THE  EXPLORER 

Dick. 

Wu  .-^hall  want  Ineakfast  at  eight  to-muirow.  I'm 
going  down  to  Southampton  to  see  Mr.  Mackenzie 
otf.  But  I  shall  be  home  to  dinner.  liow  about  those 
caties  in  the  hall  ? 

Charles. 

Mr.  Mackenzie  said  they  were  to  be  sent  tor  tliis 
afternoon.  They're  only  luljelled  Zanzibar.  Is  that 
suliicient,  sir^ 

Dick. 

Oh,  I  suppose  so.  Mr.  Mackenzie  will  have  given 
the  shippers  all  directions.  You'd  better  bring  the 
tea  at  once.     Mrs.  Crowley  is  coming  at  four. 

Charles. 
Very  well,  sir. 

[lie  goes  out.  Dick  continues  to  arramje  the 
Jlotvers,  then  aoes  to  the  icindow  and  looks 
out.  He  comes  hack.  Hie  door  is  opened  by 
Charles,  who  announces  Mits.  Cr(»wlev. 

Charles. 
Mrs.  Crowley. 

Dick. 

[Going  touxirds  her  eagerhj  and  taking  both  Ler 
hcLnds.^  Best  of  women  ! 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
You  seem  quite  glad  to  see  me  ( 

Dl(  K. 

1  am.     But  where  is  Lucy  ( 


THE  EXPLORER  127 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
She's  coming  later.   ...     I  don't  know  why  you 
should  squeeze  my  hands  in  this  pointed  manner. 

Dick. 

AVhat  an  age  it  is  since  I  saw  you ! 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
If  you  bury  yourself  in  Scotland  all  the  summer, 
you  can't  expect  to  see  people  who  go  to  llomburg 
and  the  Italian  lakes. 

Dick. 
Heavens,  how  you  cultivate  respectability  ! 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
It's  a  sensitive  plant  whose  vagaries  one  has  to 
humour. 

Dick. 


Aren't  you  delighted  to  be  back  in  town 


Mrs.  Crowley. 

London's  the  most  charming  place  in  the  world  to 
get  away  fj'om  and  to  come  back  to.  Now  tell  me  all 
you've  been  doing,  if  I  can  hear  it  without  blushing 
too  furiously. 

Dick. 

My  behaviour  would  have  done  credit  to  a  clergy- 
man's only  daughter.  I  dragged  Alec  oft"  to  Scotland 
after  that  horrible  scene  at  Lady  Kelsey's,  and  we 
played  golf. 


128  THE  EXPLORER 

Mrs.  Cuowley. 
Was  he  very  wretched,  pour  thing  ? 

Dick. 
He  didn't  say  a  word.     I  wanted  to  comfort  him, 
but  he  never  gave  me  a  chance,    lie  never  mentioned 
Lucy's  name. 

Mrs.  Crowley, 

1  )id  he  seem  unhappy  ? 

Dick. 

No.  He  was  just  the  same  as  ever,  impassive  and 
collected. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Really  he's  inhuman. 

Dick. 

He's  an  anomaly  in  this  juvenile  century.  He's 
an  ancient  Roman  who  buys  his  clothes  in  Savile 
Row.     An  eagle  caged  with  a  colony  of  canaries. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Then  he's  very  much  in  the  way  in  England,  and 
it's  much  better  for  him  that  he  should  go  back  to 
Africa. 

Dick. 

This  time  to-morrow  lie'll  be  half-way  down  the 
channel. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I'm  really  beginning  to  think  you're  a  perfect 
angel,  Mr.  Lomas. 


THE  EXPLORER  129 

Dick. 

Don't  say  that,  it  makes  me  feel  so  middle-aged. 
I'd  much  sooner  be  a  young  sinner  than  an  elderly 
cheiub. 

Mrs.  CiiowLEY. 

It  was  sweet  of  you  to  look  after  him  through  the 
summer  ar.d  then  insist  on  his  staying  here  till  he 
went  away.     How  long  is  he  going  for  this  time '( 

Dick. 

Heaven  knows  !     Perhaps  for  ever. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Have  you  told  him  that  Lucy  is  coming  ? 

Dick. 

No.  I  thought  that  was  a  pleasi)jg  piece  of  infor- 
mation which  I'd  leave  you  to  impart. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Thanks ! 

Dick. 

She's  only  coming  to  indulge  a  truly  feminine 
passion  for  making  scenes,  and  she's  made  Alec  quite 
wretched  enough  already.  Why  doesn't  she  marry 
Tiobert  Boulger'^ 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Why  should  she  ? 

Dick. 
Half   the    women    i    know    merely  married  their 

I 


130  THE  EXPLORER 

husbands  to  .s])ite  «oiiiebocly  else.     It  appeurs  to  be 
one  of  the  commonest  causes  of  matrimony. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[mth  a  quizzical  look  at  Iiim.]  Talking  of  which, 
what  are  you  going  to  do   when  Mr.  ISIackenzie  is 
gone? 

Talking  of  the  weather  and  the  crops,  I  propose  to 
go  to  fSpain. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

{Openimj  her  eyes  loide^  How  very  extraordinary  ! 
1  tiiought  of  going  there,  too. 

Dick. 
TheUj  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  1  shall  go  to 
Norway. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
It'll  be  dreadfully  cold. 

Dick. 
]Jreadfully.      But    I    shall    be    supported    by    the 
consciousness  of  having  done  my  duty. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

You  don't  think  there  would  be  room  for  both  of 
us  in  .Spain  ? 

Dick. 

I'm  convinced  there  wouldn't.  We  .should  always 
]>e  running  against  one  another,  and  you'd  insist  on 
my  looking  out  all  your  trains  in  Bradshaw. 


THE  EXPLORER  131 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I  hope  you  remember  that  you  asked  me  to  tea 
to-day  ? 

Dick. 

Pardon  me,  you  asked  yourself.  I  keep  the  letter 
next  to  my  heart  and  [)ut  it  under  my  pillow  every 
night. 

Mrs.  Croavley. 

You  libber  !  Besides,  if  I  did,  it  was  only  on 
Lucy's  account. 

Dick. 

That,  I  venture  to  think,  is  neither  polite  nor 
accurate. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

I  don't  think  I  should  so  utterly  detest  you,  if  you 
hadn't  such  a  good  opinion  of  yourself. 

Dick. 

You  forget  that  I  vowed  on  the  head  of  my 
maternal  grandmother  never  to  speak  to  you  again. 

Mrs.  Croavley. 

Oh,  I'm  ahvays  doing  that.  I  tell  my  maid  that 
each  time  she  does  my  hair  badly. 

Dick. 

You  trifled  with  the  tenderest  aiiection  of  an 
innocent  and  unsophisticated  old  bachelor. 


132  THF  EXPLORER 

Mrs.  Cuowley. 
]s  that  you  by  any  chance  ? 
Dick  . 
Of  course,  it's  me.     D'you  think  I  was  talking  of 
the  man  in  the  moon  '( 

Mrs.  Crowj.ey. 
[Lookimj  at  him  critlcalli/.]  With  the  light  behind, 
you  might  still  pass  for  thirty-five. 

Dick. 
I've  given  up  youth  and  its  vanities.     I  no  longer 
pluck  out  my  white  hairs. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Then  how  on  earth  do  you  occupy  your  leisure  ^ 

Dick. 
For  the  last  three   months    I've  been  laboriously 
piecing  together  the  fragments  of  a  broken  heart. 

Mrs.  Crowi>i:v. 
If  you  hadnt  been  so  certain  that  I  was  going  to 
accept  you.  I  should  never  have  refused.     1  couldn't 
resist  the  temptation  of  saying  ''  No  '  just  to  see  how 
vou  took  it. 

Dick. 

I  flatter  myself  that  I  took  it  very  well. 

Mrs.  Cruwi.kv. 
You  didn't.     You  showed  an  entire  lack  of  humour. 
You  might  have  known  that  a  nice  woman  doesn't 


THE  EXPLORER  133 

many  a  man  the  first  time  he  asks  her.  It's  making 
oneself  too  cheap.  It  was  very  silly  of  you  to  go  ofi' 
to  Scotland  as  if  you  didn't  care.  .  .  .  IIow  was  I  to 
know  that  you  meant  to  wait  three  months  before 
asking  me  again  ? 

Dick. 

I  haven't  the  least  intention  of  asking  you  again. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Then   why   in    heaven's  name  did  you  invite  me 
to  tea  ? 

Dick. 

May  I    respectfully    remind    you,  first,    that   you 
invited  yourself  .  .   . 

Mrs.  Orowley. 

[Inter ri'ptinc/.]  You're  so  irrelevant. 

Dick. 

And,  secondly,  that    an    invitation  to    tea    is  not 
necessarily  accompanied  by  a  proposal  of  marriage. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I'm  afraid  you're  lamentably  ignorant  of  the  usages 
of  good  society. 

Dick. 

I  assure  you  it's  not  done  in  the  best  circles. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[With  a  little  pout.]  I  shall  be  very  cross  with  you 
in  a  minute. 

Dick. 
Why? 


134  7~f/7r  FXPLORER 

MnS.  ('ROWLEY. 

Because  you're  not  behaving  at  all  piettii}-. 

Dick. 

D'you  know  what  ]'(l  do  if  1  wore  you  i     Propose 
to  me. 

Mrs.  Crowl7:y. 

Oh,  1  couldn't  do  anything  so  immodest. 

Dick. 
I  have  registered  a  vow  that  I  will  never  offer  my 
hand  and  jieart  to  any  woman  again. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
On  the  head  of  yoiu-  mnternal  grandmother? 

J)ICK. 

Oh  no,  far  more  serious  than  that.  On  the  gra\e 
of  my  maiden  aunt,  who  left  me  all  my  money. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
What  will  you  say  if  T  do  ? 

Dick. 

That  depends  entirely  on  how  you  do  it.  1  may 
remind  you,  however,  that  first  you  go  down  on  your 
hondt'd  knees, 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

oil,  I  waived  that  with  you. 

Dick. 

And  llion  you  confess  you're  unworthy  of  mo. 


THE  EXPLORER  t35 

Miis.  Cjiowley. 
Mr.  Lomas,  I  am  a  widow.  I  am  tweuty-uine  and 
extremely  eligible.  My  maid  is  a  treasure.  My 
dressmaker  is  charming.  I  am  clever  enough  to  laugh 
at  your  jokes,  and  not  so  learned  as  to  know  where 
they  come  from. 

Dick. 
Really  you're  very  long-winded.    I  said  it  all  in  four 
words. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
So  could  I  if  I  might  write  it  ciown. 

DiOK. 

You  must  say  it. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Bat  what  I'm  trying  to  make  you  understand  is 
that  I  don't  want  to  marry  you  a  bit.  You're  just 
the  sort  of  man  who'll  beat  his  wife  regularly  every 
Saturday  night.  .  .  .  You  will  say  yes  if  I  ask  you, 
won't  you  f? 

Dick. 

I've  never  been  able  to  refuse  a  w^oman  anything. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
I  have  no  doubt  you  Avill  after  six  months  of  holy 
matrimony. 

Dick. 
I  never  sav/  any  one  make  such  a  fuss  about  so 
insignificant  a  detail  as  a  proposal  cf  marriage. 


136  THE  EXPLORER 

Mrs.  Crowlfa'. 
Dick.   \S/te  slrclcJtes  out  Iter  /kdkIs,  siniliiKj,  and  he 
takes  her  in  his  ar/ns.\  You  really  are  a  detestable 
person. 

DlfK. 

[With  a  smile,  talinij  a  rimj  from  his  ^;of/<'^.J  J 
bought  an  engagement  ring  yesterday  on  the  ofl' 
chance  of  its  being  useful. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Then  you  meant  to  ask  me  all  the  time  ^ 

Dick. 
Of  course  I  did,  you  silly. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 

Oh,  I  wish  I  had  known  that  before.  I'd  have 
refused  you  again. 

Dick. 
You  absurd  creature.  [//e  kisses  her. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[Tri/inr/  to  release  herself.  \  There's  somebody  coming. 

Dick. 
It's  only  Alec.  [Alec  comes  in. 

A  LEC. 

Ilulloa! 

Dkk. 

Alec,  we've  made  friends,  Mrs.  Crowley  and  I. 

Alec. 
Tt  certainlv  looks  vei-v  much  like  it. 


THE  EXPLORER  137 

Dick. 
The   fact   is,    I've    asked    her   to    marry    me,  and 
slio  .  .   . 

Mrs.  Cjioavley. 
[Interrupting,  vnth  a  senile.]  After  much  pressure — 

Dick. 
Has  consented. 

Alec. 

I'm  so  glad.  I  heartily  congratulate  you  both.  I 
was  rather  unhappy  at  leaving  Dick,  Mrs.  Crowley. 
]^ut  now  I  leave  him  in  jonv  hands,  I'm  perfectly 
content.  He's  the  dearest,  kindest  old  chap  I've 
ever  known. 

Dick. 

Shut  up,  Alec  !  Don't  play  the  heavy  father,  or  we 
shall  burst  into  teais. 

Alec. 

He'll  be  an  admirable  husband  because  he's  an 
admirable  friend. 

Mrs.  CiiowLEY. 

1  know  he  will.  And  I'm  only  prevented  from 
saying  all  I  think  of  him  and  how  much  I  love  him, 
by  the  fear  that  he'll  become  perfectly  unmanageable. 

Dick. 

Spare  me  these  chaste  blushes  which  mantle  my 
youthful  brow.  Will  you  pour  out  the  tea  .  .  . 
Nellie  i 

]\rRS.  (J ROWLEY. 

Yes  .  .  .  Dick. 


T38  THE  EXPLORER 

\She  sits  ilonm  at  the  tea-tahle  and  J>ick  makes 
In  nisei  f  comfortable  in  an  arm-chair  hy 
her  side. 

A  LEr. 

Well.  I'm  thankful  to  say  that  oveiything's  packed 
and  loady. 

ISIrs.  Crowley. 
J  wish  yon'd  stay  for  our  wediling. 

Dick. 
Do.  Yon  can  <:o  just  as  well  by  the  next  boat. 

Alec. 

I'm  afr.ud  that  everything  is  settled  now.  I've 
given  instrnctious  at  Zanzibar  to  collect  bearers,  and 
I  must  :irrive  as  quickly  as  I  can. 

Dick. 

I  wish  to  goodness  yon'd  give  np  these  horrible 
explorations. 

A  LEC. 

B\it  they're  the  very  breath  of  my  life.  Yon  don't 
know  the  exhilaration  of  the  daily  dangers — the  joy 
of  treading  where  only  the  wild  beasts  have  trodden 
before.  Oh,  already  I  can  hardly  bear  my  impatience 
when  I  think  of  the  boundless  country  and  the 
enchanting  freedom.  Here  one  grows  .^^o  small,  .^o 
despicable,  but  in  Africa  e^■erything  is  built  to  a 
nobler  standai  d.  There  a  man  is  really  a  man  ;  there 
one  knows  what  arc  will  and  strength  and  courage. 
Oh,  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  stand  on  the  edge 
of  some  great  plain  and  breathe  the  pure  keen  air 


THE  EXPLORER  I39 

after  the  terrors  of  tlio   forest.     Tlion    at   last  yon 
kriow  what  freedom  is, 

Dick. 

The  boundless  plain  of  Hyde  Park  is  enough  for 
me,  and  the  aspect  of  Piccadilly  on  a  fine  day  in  Juno 
gives  me  quite  as  many  emotions  as  I  want, 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
But  what  will  you  gain  hy  it  all,  now  that  your 
work  in  East  Africa  is  over,  by  all  the  dangers  and 
the  hardships  ( 

Nothing.  I  want  to  gain  nothing.  Perhaps  I 
shall  discover  some  new  species  of  antelope  or  some 
unknown  plant.  Perhaps  I  shall  find  some  new 
waterway.  That  is  all  the  reward  I  want,  I  love 
the  sense  of  powder  and  mastery.  What  do  you  think 
I  care  for  the  tinsel  rewards  of  kings  and  peoples  -? 

Dick. 
I  always   said  you  were   melodramatic.     I   never 
heard  anything  so  transpontine. 

Mrs,  Crowley. 
And  the  end  of  it,  what  will  be  the  end  ^ 

A  LEO. 

The  end  is  death  in  some  fever-stricken  swamp, 
obscurely,  worn  out  by  exposure  and  ague  and  starva- 
tion. And  the  bearers  will  seize  my  gun  and  my 
clothes  and  leave  me  to  the  jackals. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Don't.     It's  too  horrible. 


140  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
Why,  wlial   <l()cs  it  matter?     I  sliall  die  standing 
up.     1  shall  i^o  tlie  last  journey  as  I  have  gone  every 
other. 

M  Its.   (*HOWLEY. 

Without  fear? 

I)I(  K. 

For  all  the  world  like  the  wicked  baronet :     Once 
aboard  the  lugger  and  the  girl  is  mine ! 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Don't  you  want  men  to  remember  you  ? 

Alec. 
Perhaps  they  will.  Perhaps  in  a  hundred  years 
or  so,  in  some  flourishing  town  where  I  discovered 
nothing  but  wilderness,  they  will  commission  a 
second-rate  sculptor  to  make  a  fancy  statue  of  me. 
And  I  shall  stand  in  front  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  a 
convenient  perch  for  birds,  to  look  eternally  upon 
the  various  shabby  deeds  of  human  kind. 

I  Duruuj  this  speech  i\[us.  Crowley  males  a  sign 
to  J^TCK,  v'ho  valhs  sloirh/  foraj/  and  goes 

Oft. 

INFrs.  Crowley. 
And    is    that    really    everything?     I    can't    help 
thinking  that  at  the  bottom  of  your  heart  is  some- 
tliing  that  you've  never  told  to  a  living  soul. 

[I/e  (/ires  Jter  a   long  look,   and  then   after  a 
moment's  thought  liveahs  into  a  little  smile. 

Alec. 
Why  do  you  want  to  know  so  much  ( 


THE  EXPLORER  141 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
Tell  me. 

Alec. 

I  daresay  1  shall  never  see  you  again.  Perhaps  it 
doesn't  much  matter  what  I  say  to  you.  You'll  think 
me  very  silly,  but  I'm  afraid'  I'm  rather— patriotic. 
It's  only  we  who  live  away  from  England  who  really 
love  it.  I'm  so  proud  of  my  country,  and  I  wanted 
so  much  to  do  something  for  it.  Often  in  Africa  I've 
thought  of  this  dear  England,  and  longed  not  to  die  till 
I  had  done  my  work.  JJehind  all  the  soldiers  and  the 
statesmen  Avhose  fame  is  imperishable,  there  is  a  long 
line  of  men  who've  built  up  the  Empire  piece  by  piece. 
Their  names  are  forgotten,  and  only  students  know 
their  history,  but  each  one  of  them  gave  a  province  to 
his  country.  And  I,  too,  have  my  place  among  them. 
For  five  years  I  toiled  night  and  day,  and  at  the  end 
of  it  was  able  to  hand  over  to  the  Commissioners  a 
broad  tract  of  land,  ricli  and  fertile.  After  my  death 
England  will  forget  my  faults  and  my  mistakes.  I 
care  nothing  for  the  flouts  and  gibes  with  which  she 
has  repaid  all  my  pain,  for  I  have  added  another  fair 
jewel  to  her  crown.  I  don't  want  rewards.  I  only 
want  the  honour  of  serving  this  dear  land  of  ours. 

Miis.  Crowley. 
Why  is  it,  when  you're  so  nice  really,  that  you  do 
all  you  can  to  make  people  think  you  utterly  horrid  ( 

Alec. 
Don't  laugh  at  me  because  you've  found  out  that 
at  heart  I'm  nothing  more  than    a  sentimental   old 
woman. 


142  THE  EXPLORER 

Mils.  Ckowley. 
' PuUiiuj  her  hand  on  his  an/i.]    What  would  you 
do  if  liUey  came  here  to-day  !? 

[Alec  starts,  looks  at  her  shurjAi/,  then  answers 
with  deliberation. 

Alec. 

1  have  always  lived  in  polite  society.  ]  should 
never  dream  of  outraging  its  conventions.  If  Miss 
Allerton  happened  to  come,  you  may  be  sure  I  should 
be  scrupulously  polite. 

Miis.  Cuowi.EY. 
Is  that  all  ^:     T^ucy  has  suffered  very  much. 

A  LEC. 

And  do  you  suppose  I've  not  suflered  i  l^ecause  I 
don't  whine  my  misery  to  all  and  sundry,  dyou  think 
1  don't  care  i  I'm  not  the  man  to  fall  in  and  out  of 
love  with  every  pretty  face  I  meet.  All  my  life  I've 
kept  an  ideal  before  my  eyes.  Oh,  you  don't  know 
what  it  meant  to  me  to  fall  in  love.  I  felt  that  I  had 
lived  all  my  life  in  a  prison,  and  at  last  Lucy  came 
and  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  out.  And  for 
the  first  time  I  breathed  the  free  air  of  heaven.  Oh 
(Jod  !  how  I've  sutiered  for  it !  Why  shoidd  it  have 
come  to  me  ^  Oh,  if  you  knew  my  agony  and  the 
torture ! 

[y/e  liides  Ills  face,  Iri/imj  lo  master  his  emotion. 
M  lis.  Crowley  goes  to  him  and  j^uts  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder. 

■Mrs.  Ckowley. 
Mr.  Mackenzie. 


TlJIi  EXPLORER  i43 

Alec. 
[Springing  it]).]  Co  away.  JJou't  look  at  me. 
How  can  you  stand  there  and  watch  my  weakness  ? 
Oh  God,  give  me  strength  .  .  .  My  love  was  the  last 
human  weakness  I  had.  It  was  right  that  I  should 
drink  that  bitter  cup.  And  I've  drunk  its  very  dregs. 
1  should  have  known  ihat  I  wasn't  meant  for  happi- 
ness and  a  life  of  ease.  I  have  other  work  to  do  in 
the  world.  And  now  that  I  have  overcome  this  last 
temptation,  I  am  ready  to  do  it. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
But  haven't  you  any  pity  for  yourself,  haven't  you 
any  thought  for  Lucy  ? 

Alec. 
]\Iust  I  tell  you,  too,  that  everything  I  did  was  for 
Lucy's  sake  (?     And  still  I  love  her  with  all  my  heart 
and  soul  .  .  . 

Dick  comes  in. 

Dick. 
Here  is  Lucy  ! 

[Charles  comes  in  and  announces  Lucy. 

Charles. 
Miss  AUerton  ! 

[She  enters^  aoul  Dick,  anxious  that  the  meeting 
shall  not  he  more  aiokivarcl  than  need  he, 
goes  up  to  Iter  very  cordially. 

Dick. 
Ah,  my  dear  Lucy.     So  glad  you  were  able  to  come. 

Ltcy. 
[Giving  her  hand  to  Dick,  hut  looking  at  Alec.J 
How  d'you  do  ^ 


144  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
How  d'you  do?     [lie  forces  /tiutselj  io  talk.]  How 
is  Lady  Kelsey  ? 

Lucy. 
She's  much   better,  thanks.      We've   been  to   Spn, 
you  know,  for  her  health. 

Alec. 
Somebody   told    me  you'd   gone   abroad.     AVas    it 
you,  Dick  (?      Dick  is  an  admirable  person,  a  sort  of 
gazetteer  for  polite  society. 

Dick. 
Won't  you  have  some  tea,  Lucy  ? 

Lucy. 
No,  thanks  ! 

Mrs.  CiiuwLEY. 
[Tr>/ui(j    on    her    side    also    io    make   conversatiu7i.^ 
We   shall    miss   you    dreadfully    when    you're   gone, 
Mr.  Mackenzie. 

Dick. 
[CJieerfully.]  Not  a  bit  of  it. 

A  J.  EC. 

\Smiling.\  London  is  an  excellent  place  for  showing 
one  of  how  little  importance  one  is  in  the  world. 
One  makes  a  certain  figure,  and  perhaps  is  tempted 
to  think  oneself  of  .some  consequence.  Then  one  goes 
away,  and  on  returning  is  surprised  to  discover  that 
nobody  has  even  noticed  one's  absence. 

Dick. 
You're   over-modest,   Alec,     if   you   weren't,   you 


THE  EXPLORER  145 

might  be  a  great  man.  Now,  i  make  a  point  of 
telling  my  friends  that  I'm  indispensable,  and  they 
take  me  at  my  word. 

Alec. 

You  are  a  leaven  of  flippancy  in  the  heavy  dough 
of  British  righteousness. 

Dick. 

The  wise  man  only  takes  the  unimportant  quite 
seriously. 

Alec. 

[With  a  smile?[  For  it  is  obvious  that  it  needs  more 
brains  to  do  nothing  than  to  be  a  cabinet  minister. 

Dick. 
You  pay  me  a  great  compliment,  Alec.    You  repeat 
to  my  very  face  one  of  my  favourite  observations. 

Lucy. 

[Almost  in  a  ivhispe7\]   Haven't  I  heard  you  say 
that  only  the  impossible  is  worth  doing  ? 

Alec. 
Good   heavens,    I   must   have   been    reading    the 
headings  of  a  copy-book. 

Mrs.  Crowley. 
[2^0  Dick.]  Are  you  going  to  Southampton  to  see 
Mr.  Mackenzie  off  i 

Dick. 
I  shall  hide  my  face  on  his  shoulder  and  weep  salt 
tears.     It'll  be  most  affecting,  because  in  moments  of 
emotion  I  always  burst  into  epigram. 

K 


146  THE  EXPLORER 

Alec. 
I  loathe  all  solemn  leave-takings.     I  prefer  to  j.ait 
from  people  with  a  nod  and  a  smile,  whether  J'm 
going  for  e\er  or  for  a  day  to  Brighton. 

M  us.    CllOWLEY. 

You're  very  hard. 

Alec 

Dick  has  been  teaching  me  to  take  life  flippantly. 
And  I  have  learnt  that  thing.s  are  only  serious  if  you 
take  them  seriously,  and  that  is  desperately  stupid. 
[To  Lucy.]  Don't  you  agree  with  me  ? 

Licv. 
Ko. 

[Her  tone,  uhnost  trcujic,  makes  him  pause 
for  an  instant;  hut  he  is  determined 
that  the  conversation  shall  he  2mrely  con- 
ventional. 

Alec. 

It's  so  difficult  to  be  serious  without  being  absurd. 
That  is  the  chief  power  of  women,  that  life  and  death 
are  merely  occasions  for  a  change  of  costume : 
marriage  a  creation  in  white,  and  the  worship  of  God 
an  opportunity  for  a  Paris  bonnet. 

[Mrs.  Cuowley  /jiaJces  vp  her  mind  to  force  a 
crisis,  and  she  (jets  np. 

S\  us.   CljtOWLEV. 

]t's  growing  late,  i  >i(k.  Won't  you  take  mo  round 
the  hou.se  ? 


THE  EXPLORER  i  }7 

A  fiEC. 

I'm  afraul  my  luggage  has  made  everything  very 
disorderly. 

]\[rs.  Crowley. 

It  doesn't  matter.     Come,  Dick  ! 

Dick. 
[To  Lucy. J  You  don't  mind  if  we  leave  you  ? 

Lucy. 
Oh,  no. 

[INFrs.  Crowley  and  Dick  go  out.     There  is  a 
moment's  silence. 

Alec. 
Do  you  know  that  our  friend  Dick  has  oflTered  his 
hand  and  heart  to  Mrs.  Crowley  this  afternoon  ? 

Lucy. 
I  hope  they'll  be  very  happy.     They're  very  much 
in  love  with  one  another. 

Alec. 
[Bitterhj^  And   is   that   a   reason   for   marrying? 
Surely    love   is   the   worst   possible    foundation    for 
marriage.       Love    creates    illusions,    and    marriages 
destroy  them.     True  lovers  should  never  marry. 

Lucy. 
"Will  you  open  the  window  ?    It  seems  stifling  here. 

Alec. 
Certainly.     [From   tlie  vindow.]   You  can't  think 
what  a  joy  it  is  to  look   upon  London  for  the  last 
time.     I'm'  so  thankful  to  get  away. 


148  THE  EXPLORER 

[Lucy  (jives  a  little  sob  awl  Alec  turns  to  the 
vnndow.  lie  vants  to  iroviul  her  and  yet 
cannot  hear  to  see  her  suffer, 

A  m:c. 
To-morrow  at  tliis  time  J    sliiill   be  well  started. 
Oh,  J  long  for  that  infinite  .surface  of  the  dean  and 
comfortable  sea. 

Lucy. 
Are  you  very  glad  to  go? 

A  LEC. 

[Tumincj  to  her.^  T  feel  quite  boyish  at  the  very 
thought. 

Lucy. 

And  is  there  no  one  you  regret  to  leave  ? 
Alec. 

You  see,  Dick  is  going  to  marry.  When  a  man 
does  that,  his  bachelor  friends  are  wise  to  dei)art 
gracefully  before  he  shows  them  that  he  needs  .their 
company  no  longer.  I  have  no  relations  and  few 
friends.  .1  can't  flatter  myself  that  any  one  will  be 
much  distressed  at  my  departure. 

Lucy. 
[//i  a  loir  voice.]  You  must  have  no  heart  at  all. 

Alec. 
[Icily.]  Jf  i  had,  I  certainly  should  not  bring  it  to 
Portman  Square.     That  sentimental  organ  would  be 
surely  out  of  place  in  such  a  neighbourhood. 

Lucy. 
[Gets  vp  and  goes  to  him.']  Oh,  wliy  do  you  treat  me 
as  if  we  were  strangers  ?     flow  can  you  be  so  cruel  ? 


THE  EXPLORER  14O 

Alec. 
\Gravely.^^  Don't  you  think  that  flippancy  is  the  best 
refuge  from  an  unconifortaljle  position.     We  shoukl 
really  be  much  wiser  merely  to  discuss  the  Aveathcr. 
Lucy. 
[Insisting.^  Are  you  angry  because  I  came  ? 

Alec. 
That  would  be  ungracious  on  my  part.     Perhaps  it 
wasn't  quite  necessary  that  w^e  should  meet  again. 

Lucy. 
You've  been  acting  all  the  time  I've  been  here. 
B'you  think  I  didn't  see  it  was  unreal  when  you 
talked  with  such  cynical  indifierence.  I  know  you 
well  enough  to  tell  when  you're  hiding  your  real  self 
behind  a  mask. 

Alec. 
If  I'm  doing  that,  the  inference  is  obvious  that  I 
wish  my  real  self  to  be  hidden. 

Lucy. 
I  would  rather  you  cursed  me  than  treat  me  with 
such  cold  politeness. 

Alec. 
I'm  afraid  you're  rather  difficult  to  please. 

[Lucy  goes  iq)  to  him  'passionately^  hut  he  draws 
hack  so  that  she  may  not  touch  him. 

Lucy. 
Oh,  you're  of  iron.  Alec,  Alec,  I  couldn't  let  3'ou 
go  without  seeing  you  once  more.  Even  you  would 
be  satisfied  if  you  knew  what  bitter  anguish  I've 
suffered.  Even  you  would  pity  me.  I  don't  want 
you  to  think  too  badly  of  me. 


150  THE  EXPLORER 

Alkc. 
Docs   it   iimch  Diatter  what  I  think  ?     A\'p  sliall  ))e 
so  many  thousand  miles  apart. 

Lucv. 
I  suppose  tliat  you  utterly  despise  me. 

Alec. 
No.     I  loved  you  far  too  much  ever  to  do  that. 
Believe  me,  I   only  wish  you  well.     Now  that  the 
bitterness  is  past,  1  see  that  you  did  the  only  possible 
thing.     J  hope  that  you'll  be  very  happy. 

Lucy. 
Oh,  Alec,  don't  be  utterly  pitiless.     Don't  leave  me 
without  a  sin«j:le  word  of  kindness. 

Alkc. 

Nothinf(  is  changed,  Lucy.     You  sent  me  away  on 
account  of  your  brother's  death. 

[7'here  is  a  long  silence,  and  vhen  she  speals 
it  is  hesitatinglij,  as  if  tJie  vords  wre 
^mmfxd  to  utter. 

Lucy. 
I  hated  you  then,  and  yet  I  couldn't  crush  the  love 
that  was  in  my  heart.  I  used  to  try  and  drive  you 
away  from  my  thoughts,  but  every  word  you  had  ever 
said  came  batk  tome.  Don't  you  reincniber?  You 
told  me  that  everything  you  did  was  for  my  sake. 
Those  words  hammered  at  my  heart  as  though  it 
were  an  anvil.  I  struggled  not  to  believe  them. 
]  said  to  my.self  that  you  had  sacrificed  Oeorge  coldly, 
callously,  prudently,  but  in  my  heart  1  knew  it  wasn't 
true,      [//f  loohs  at  hfi\  hardhj  ahle  t<>  heJieve  ir/ni(  she 


THE  EXPLORER  151 

is  going  to  say,  but  does  not  speed-.]  Your  whole  life 
stood  on  one  side  and  only  this  hateful  story  on  the 
other.  You  couldn't  have  grown  into  a  different  man 
in  one  single  instant.  J  came  here  to-day  to  tell  you 
that  I  don't  understand  the  reason  of  what  you  did.  1 
don't  want  to  understand.  I  believe  in  you  now  with 
all  my  strength.  I  know  that  whatever  you  did  was 
right  and  just — because  you  did  it. 

[Ife  gives  a  long,  deep  sigh. 

Alec. 
Thank  God !     Oh,  I'm  so  grateful  to  you  for  that. 

Lucy, 
Haven't  you  anything  more  to  say  to  me  than  that  ? 

Alec. 
You  see,  it  comes  too  late.     Nothing  much  matters 
now,  for  to-morrow  I  go  away. 

Lucy. 
Bat  you'll  come  back. 

Alec. 
I'm  going  to  a  part  of  Africa  from  which  Europeans 
seldom  return. 

Lucy. 
\_With  a  sudden  outburst  of  passioii.]  Oh,  that's  too 
horrible.     Don't  go,  dearest !     I  can't  bear  it ! 

Alec. 
I  must  now.     Everything  is  settled,  and  there  can 
be  no  drawing  back. 

Lucy. 
Don't  you  care  for  me  any  more  'i 


152  THE  EXPLORER 

Alix'. 
Care  for  you  ?     I  lo^•e  you  with  all  my  heart  and 
Koul. 

Lucy. 
\^Ea(jerhj.^  Then  take  me  with  you. 

Alec. 
You ! 

Lucy. 
You  don't  know  what  I  can  do.     With  you  to  help 
me  I  can  be  brave.     Lot  me  come,  Alec  ( 

Alec. 
No,  it's  impossible.     You  don't  know  what  you  ask. 

Lucy. 
Tlien  let  me  wait  for  you  '^     Let  me  wait  till  you 
come  back  ? 

Alec. 
And  if  I  never  come  back  ? 

Lucy. 
I  will  wait  for  you  still. 

Alec. 
Then  have  no  fear.    I  will  come  back.     IMy  journey 
was  only  dangerous  because  I  wanted  to  die.     1  want 
to  live  now,  and  I  shall  live. 

Lucy. 
Oil,  Alec,  Alec,  I'm  so  glad  you  love  me. 

THE    E^D 


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DEC  14  1932 


'f'y^M  0  1953  U 
29!un 


30  ^'933 


FvtTC 

JUL  2 


^       „r-     111^33 


NAY   8    1934 

JUL     191938 

DEC  15  1939 
APR  17  1947 


LO/ 


1,1>  21    .'"III  A. 


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